A Highwayman Came Riding
by Lyra Lupin
Summary: James Norrington is reinstated as a R.N. Captain, but he regrets his failure to marry. By chance, he decides to take a dangerous young woman, Lady Cunningham as his wife. Can James win his wife's affections and catch a highwayman before its too late?
1. Chapter 1: The Low Road

**A Highwayman Came Riding**

**Chapter 1: The Low Road**

Notes: James Norrington is reinstated as a R.N. Captain, but he regrets his failure to marry after the loss of Elizabeth. By chance, he decides to take mysterious and dangerous young woman his wife (OFC) and in the meantime, the admiralty assigns him to chase a highway man. Can Norrington win his wife's affections and catch the 'land pirate' before it's too late?

Norrington/ OFC

Post POTC

Rating: PG

**Chapter 1: The Low Road**

"_Our Father, which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy Name..."_

James Norrington's hooded eyes rested wearily upon the eight bodies-- six common sailors, one marine and his second lieutenant, sown tightly into their hammocks for all eternity. Once strong, boisterous men, silenced by the canon ball and grape shot forever.

"_Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven..."_

The pages of his prayer book fluttered in the wind, but he knew recitation by heart.

"_Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, As we forgive them that trespass against us..."_

A soft rain began to fall, he closed his eyes, and let the water baptize his face, taking comfort in the ritual of spoken prayer. Men's voices to God; a low, rhythmic drumming upon a barren sea.

"_And lead us not into temptation; But deliver us from evil..."_

_But not from retribution... _ James thought. His passions flamed and stomach knotted as he silently vowed to kill the pirates that sold their location to the Spanish and had allowed his his ship to be fired upon unawares needless loss of eight crewman.

"_For thine is the kingdom, The power, and the glory; For ever and ever. Amen."_

His hand trembling, he snapped the prayer book closed. Quelling a fury for vengeance signaled by a deep gasp of sea air, he turned to the crew of the _The Valiant_. A worn, haggard congregation of lubbers and thieves, but beneath his tight control, they had become seamen and sailors to their marrow.

It was to these men who stood humble before him, pain stretching their tanned faces into deep scows, that he turned his blue eyes and steeled his heart as he spoke.

"We commit these bodies to the sea, knowing they shall be called forth during the final Resurrection... May God have mercy upon their souls."

Nodding to the Master's mate, three sailors trudged forward. Carefully lifting the corpses of their beloved ship mates and they releasing them overboard. The horizon was gray and the whipping of the sails was unusually strong. The bleak weather echoing the forlorn mood of the crew as eight splashes from the ocean gave a final goodbye. The sailors, hats still twisting in their hands, lowered their raggedy heads as each name and station was solemnly called by the ships Master.

At the reading of the name of the Lieutenant, "Donald MacCallum"; young man much beloved by both the officers and the common sailors as well as Norrington, himself-- there came a low baritone voice singing.

"_Oh! Ye'll take the high road, and I'll take the low road, And I'll be in Scotland afore ye..."_

An old Scottish sailor who many a boy looked upon as a father at sea had begun the song. His eyes closed, his haggard voice pushing out the words with a painful, craggy grace.

It was not unusual for the Irish and occasionally, the Scottish to keen their dead with a native song. As much as James disliked the Scottish national sentiment, Donald MacCallum had proven his loyalty to the King again and again. He was courageous, hard working and exceptionally bright. James sighed, he was a truly regrettable loss.

_But me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond." A few more voices joined in on the last refrain. __Oh! Ye'll take the high road, and I'll take the low road, And I'll be in Scotland afore ye,"_

James added, "Amen."

"Amen." Echoed the crowd.

"Gillette, see that the men have an extra ration of grog tonight." Added James, before putting on his tricorne, and turning on his heel. "I have letters to write."

James Norrington hated writing these letters. He had a fine hand and was normally at ease with paper and quill, but there were no easy words to tell a mother that a son would not come home. Yet, it was his duty as the ship's Captain to relay to parents and sweethearts that their sons and lovers had died a noble death for King and country.

Perhaps the task would be easier this night if he didn't feel such guilt at being unprepared for the Spanish attack. Not that he could have know. The Spanish obviously had their spies, but so did England. His quill tickled his chin as he wondered why he hadn't heard from England's in quite sometime. Yet, it was not the place of a mere captain to question and so with a low heart and head weary mind, he scrubbed at his face as a feeling of frustration washed over him.

Alone in his cabin, he offered a silent prayer to God. There had been a time in his life when he had lost his spiritual conscious, after the hurricane coupled with the humiliation of losing Elizabeth, he turned from God and country. But the Church of England was a powerful force, and in its familiar ritual he had found comfort and in his countrymen he had found forgiveness and thankfully, reinstatement as a Royal Naval Capitan.

Yet, even after all the loss he saw with the hurricane, losing men under his command never got any easier for James Norrington. Perhaps this was his Achilles heal, this tenderness for the lives of his shipmates was the soft-spot in his armor and in his heart. His men had attested he was made of steel and women that he was made of stone, but he had fragility-- yet, it wasn't in his character to ever show it. Even to his most trusted officer and friend, Andrew Gillette or to the woman he'd once loved, Elizabeth Swann.

He sighed, regretting the loss not so much of the woman, but of the state of marriage. If he had a woman to turn to in the darkness of the marriage bed, then perhaps the loss of young men would be easier to bare. Lighting a candle, and clearing his mind of regrets, he continued into the evening. A knock sounded at the door and a voice.

"Lt. Gillette, sir."

"Enter." He commanded; only briefly looking up as his first lieutenant entered.

"Sir, Midshipman Forbes to see you, sir. He has something regarding Lt. MacCallum he would like to relate to you." Gillette's spoke in his usual lyrical Irish tented English, but his eyes had dulled. He too must be feeling the loss of the men, James thought.

He tried to smile lightly and bade, "Bring him in, Andrew."

He knew that Harry Forbes and Donald MacCallum had been close friends and Forbes was the son of a minor knight somewhere in the lowland counties.

"Good evening, Captain sir."

The young man bade upon entering and removing his cap.

"Good evening, Forbes. Lt. Gillette says that you have some information regarding Lt. MacCallum you would like to relate."

"Yes, sir." The young man nodded, his cheeks pinking. "I don't wish to be out of line sir, but I understand you are writing letters to the MacCallum family."

"I am." Norrington confirmed. His shirtsleeves were rolled back, a stack of parchments lay beneath his dripping quill. "I know you and Donald were friends. Is there something you wish for me to add"

"Yes sir. You see, Donald... Lt. MacCallum was engaged to marry a Miss Norah Cunningham. She was a fine friend to me as well and of my family's and if it's not too much to ask sir," his pale eyes raised tentatively to meet the captain's. "I know she would greatly appreciate a letter from you sir on the event of his untimely death."

"I see," James lowered his eyes.

"He spoke very highly of you in his letters home to her." Harry interjected.

James smiled with humble bemusement. "Of course, I shall write her. I assume you have her address and name?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir."

The young man handed him a card upon which was written in a flourished script,

_**Miss Norah Cunningham**_

_**Finlaystone Castle**_

_**Ayrshire, Scotland**_

James brow knotted at the address. He didn't know much about Scotland, but the girl lived in the castle and Donald MacCallum was the son was a gentleman lawyer. Surely he wouldn't have been engaged to a maid.

The page grew fuzzy beneath his weary eyes. "Who is this Miss Cunningham? Is she the daughter of the Earl--" James looked up, but his cabin was again empty. He shook his head, and pushed the thought far from his mind. It would be madness to think Donald had been engaged to the daughter of the Earl of Glencairn, a rather influential man in the Admiralty.

With a heavy heart, he dipped his quill and began,

"Dear Miss Cunningham,

I regret to inform you..."

**Author's Note:** The Lord's Prayer and the traditional Scottish song, _Loch Lomond_ are used in this chapter. The "low road" is a reference to the belief that if someone died away from his homeland then his spirit would via this route. This is a rework of the unfinished, _My Bonnie Love_.


	2. Chapter 2: Rose of Argyll

**A Highwayman Came Riding**

**Chapter 2: The Rose of Argyll**

It had been nearly four months since the surprise Spanish attack on _The Valiant_ and a week since James Norrington had felt the roll of the sea beneath his boots. His prize money and station gave him the means in Port Royal to have a clean and modest town home with servants, but time on land, however comfortable, made him restless.

Perhaps it was the silent eyes of the citizens that looked upon him with secret knowledge of his time in Tortuga or the whispers of the finer ladies that he had been cuckold by a blacksmith; either way, his old transgressions haunted him.

He had learned from Gillette, that the mama's of Port Royal were casting him as a tragic character with a dark past whose only love was for sea and country. Norrington rolled his eyes when his lieutenant and friend had relayed this bit of gossip, but it did make it clearer why young woman often flushed or fained when he asked them to pass the cream at society teas.

Becoming Port Royal's 'scorned lover' had made him more myth than man and the only place he could free himself of tsilly girls and pushy mothers was on _The Valiant_. As much as he wished for a wife, his flirtations with young women had ended when he learned a harsh truth from Elizabeth Swann-- young women wanted young men, and he was no longer a young man.

It was dark and nearly half past nine in the evening when James came home from the pub. Strangely his house was unlit.

"Evans?" James called, unlocking and pushing the front door to his town home open. Absolute silence. "I say, Evans, are you here?"

The house was silent. He pushed the door open to his valet's bedroom on the first floor, but it was empty.

"Odd," James noted as he climbed the stairs to his own bed chamber, unbuttoning his frock coat as he went. Entering his bed chamber, he removed his hat, wig, coat and frock coat. He was in the process of unwrapping his neck cloth when he felt the dull, cold weight of a pistol point pressed into his back.

"Captain Norrington?"

James instinctively raised his hands.

"Yes." He answered quietly.

"I've com' to make my peace with ye."

James released a deep sigh as he recognized the voice of a woman. Then he asked forcefully, "What have you done with Evans?"

"Yer man is indisposed, but not harmed... Now, off with the neck cloth, slowly."

James entwined the strip of fabric around his fingers and tugged it from his neck as he pondered what sins he had committed only to be shot in the back like a dog.

Dropping the cloth to the floor, "Did Sparrow send you?" It was a reasonable question.

"Can a woman nay send herself?" The voice was indignant.

"Of course." James answered calmly, now curious about her Scots accent. It was only very slight, but definitely noticeable.

"Now dear Captain, I want you to walk very slowly and sit in that wee chair."

The point of the gun pushed him forward. As he sat, he heard the rustle of her skirts and felt the gun slide from his back to heart and for the first time, he saw his kidnapper. He gasped sharply at her beauty; this was no scullery maid, but a young woman of fine breeding. Chestnut hair, intelligent dark eyes, a strong jaw and red lips like rose petals.

She wore a finely made dress of purple silk, and the low-neck line of the gown revealed an ample bosom covered by a stomacher. To her shoulder was pinned a golden Luckenbooth broach; the Scottish adornment of with the symbols of heart and crown, a token of lovers. As beautiful as she was, her sharp eyes bore a cold defiance.

_What have I done to this woman?_

"My name is Norah Cunningham. Keep your hands on the arms of the chair, sir."

He looked at her blankly, his breathing intensified as she shoved the pistol point deeper into his chest; his knuckles whiting around the wooden arm rails. Finding his voice again. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma'am."

He nodded as it was impossible to bow.

"As you are already aware, my name is James Norrington and I am a Captain in His Royal Majesty's Navy and what you are doing is punishable by _death_." He added the last word curtly.

Her eyes were dark, but she merely threw back her head and laughed. Her voice ranging with Scottish fatalism. "It would be none more than you deserve."

He did not recognize the name, but none the less, James relented, "Perhaps you are right, Miss Cunningham. I am not without sin." Then lifting his pale eyes to her, "But may I ask what sin I've committed again you?"

For the first time, he saw a crazed bewilderment in her eyes. "You robbed me of my wedding day." The gun cocked, "And my wedding night."

His own eyes closing, voice bitter. "You're not the only one in this room who has been robbed of both, I assure you." He hissed.

She studied him closesly as she released the catch of the pistol; head tilted. "You're not as I imagined James Norrington."

He brought his eyes upon her again, she was definitely younger than he first estimated. "I suppose that you are the betrothed of one of the men lost at sea?" It was a reasonable guess.

She was silent, eyes studying him carefully and then she tossed a letter written in his own hand into his lap. "His name was Donald MacCallum. Do you remember my name now?"

Again, he closed his eyes and took a deep sigh. His nostrils flared with pain. "Yes... I knew your man. He was an officer and gentlemen of the finest caliber. I would have thought his fiancée the same."

He had honored her with a letter. Now steeling his blue eyes, he jaw twitched as he looked upon her pretty face.

"His friend, Harry Forbes, an acquaintance of yours as well, I believe, asked me to write you personally. It is not in my protocol to write aggrieved lovers, but Midshipman Forbes is a good man and I honored his request because I, too, greatly valued Lt. MacCallum."

Her face knotted with an ugly disbelief; pistol pressing harder against his chest. "You're lying!"

James winced at her words. "You have my letter Miss Cunningham! What more do you demand?" He was angry now, brows knotting. "The Spanish killed him, not me nor my actions. Perhaps it is Captain Rodriguez of Spain that you should be holding hostage, but I never wronged MacCallum."

Norrington's head dropped to his chest, vocalizing what he had often thought only to himself. "I am a simple captain, not a god-- I can not bring him back the dead."

There was a long silence.

"Dear God, woman... Let him rest in peace." He added quietly.

Tears welled in her eyes, voice trembling. "If you were so found of Donald, then why was he shown in the Naval Gazette as receiving a dishonorable discharge of duties?" She gasped for breath as she wiped back a tear, "His family in shame! That order had to have come from you."

She moved the gun to his temple and James saw his move.

With quick action, he grabbed her wrist. The gun fired, hitting the ceiling and within a moment, he had the Scottish rose ensnared in his lap, both wrists held tightly behind her, the pistol fallen to the floor. They were both breathing heavily and although he was extremely irritated at her gall, he was now experiencing a new emotion-- arousal.

His jaw was set hard as he said, "You will pay for your crime."

His fingers now tightly wound around her wrists as she struggled. The predator now became the prey.

"You wouldn't dare!" She seethed, black eyes hard. Though her arms were twisted behind her back in bondage, but she shed no tears. Instead she hissed like a cat ready to fight; claws sharp and teeth bared.

Norrington's eyes narrowed, "Why not?" His britches strained and he was disgusted at his body's reaction to her, but he did not remove her from his lap something about her fatalism and unwomanly defiance fascinated him.

"Because my father is Archibald Cunningham, Earl of Glencairn." She declared loudly.

She had played her ace and James physically withdrew from her. Standing, he allowed her to slide from his lap with an unceremoniously thump to the floor.

"Lady Cunningham," His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Just my luck and in my private bed chamber, no less. How did you you get in here?" He huffed.

"I have my ways." She stood rustling her skirts.

"And to Jamaica?"

"My father has been here two weeks visiting Governor Swann and I was to reunited with Donald." Her thin fingers stroked her broach. "My plans changed when I received your letter and the subsequent Gazette."

James jaw hardened. "I will write his wrong, madam. But I you have no right to enter my home and threaten me with this." He added now picking up the pistol.

"I'll do whatever I think is necessary for Donald's family, Captain. You obviously have no thought for condition on his family... or the conditions in Scotland for that matter." The woman's words were quiet but hot.

The sound of hoofbeats pounded the cobble stones and Norrington rushed to the window. "You stupid girl!" James retorted eyes focused on the red coats turning onto his street. "Do you know what you've done!"

_Pop!_

Norah slapped his face. "I am neither stupid nor a girl. You may refer to me as Lady Cunningham, Mister Norrington."

James cupped his cheek, he deserved that. Firstly, because it had been rude and secondly, because the lass was reminding him of her nobility and of his common birth rank. Yet she was not the only one holding an ace.

"Lady Cunningham," he seethed as he grabbed her wrist and turned her to the window. "In about one minute that rider Captain Hartlett will be at my door with marines because of that shot." He was so close to her, that he could feel the heat of her body and his nostrils flared. "And do you know what they will find?"

He couldn't help but inhaled the musk of this wild woman mingled with rose and heather. He looked at her strangely. "Dear God," he whispered; he didn't know if he wanted to kill her or make love to her. Norah's turned her head at this oath with narrow and silent eyes.

"You and me alone." It was a declaration. "Do you understand what this means?" James took a solid step back from her bewitchment.

"I don't care!" She spat reaching violently for the pistol in his hand. With one hand, he bound both her wrists, she struggled only briefly before he pulled her to attention against his chest.

Brow furrowed, green eyes blazing. "You may not give a damn Lady Cunningham, but the Earl of Glencairn isn't going to allow himself to have a 'ruined' daughter and I'm not going to have a ruined career."

The front door knocked open, and footsteps pounded on the stairwell. "Sir? Captain Norrington?" A voice called from the other side of the bedroom door.

"Yes?" James replied loudly, releasing her grip, but holding her gaze with profound power.

"Pistol shot was heard up here and one of the marines just found your valet tied to a chair in your garden. Are you alright?"

Again, his green eyes narrowed on the Scottish rose with disbelief; perhaps a Scottish thistle is how he should think of her. The lass rolled her dark eyes and sat carelessly on his large four poster bed.

"I am fine, Captain Hartlett." James replied calmly as Norah red lips mouthed. "_Ruined._"

"Then perhaps, you should open the door sir." Stated the marine.

Norah's eyes searched his, "If you ruin me, I'll ruin you with no qualms!" She whispered hotly.

He stepped closer to the she-wolf, hissing. "I'll straighten this out alright, but one foot out of step and you'll ruin us both! Your reputation, I assure will be in shambles."

Standing, she clutched his lapel tightly, brining him even closer. "And your career, Norrington!"

"Sir?" The man behind the door questioned again.

Breath hot, she released the words, but could not meet his eyes. "Say it, Norrington and I'll abide."

James was stunned. Tunning on his heel, he placed the pistol in a draw and opened the door.

"Good evening, Captain Hartlett," James bowed slightly.

The marine officer entered the room, and upon spying the beautiful Lady Cunningham sitting on the bed and Norrington's state of undress, he turned a questioning eye to the naval Captain.

"I'm sorry, but Lady Cunningham and I were just having a disagreement."

"Ma'am", he bowed and instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword. "The Earl of Glencairn's daughter?" He said disbelievingly to Norrington.

"There will be not need for that, sir." James said quietly, noting the officer's sword and not sure if he'd arrest Norrington or the woman, even after he told the man the full story-- which he never would. "Lady Cunningham is my fiancée."

James's jaw stiffened as Norah's dark eyes widened. She opened her mouth as if to protest, but then offered the officer a gentle smile. She had after all given him permission to say the one thing that would save them both from ruin. Norrington breathed a sigh of relief at her smile for Hartlett. The Earl of Glencairn was a powerful force in the Admiralty and they'd be hell to pay if he thought he'd ruin his daughter. Like it or not, this Scottish thistle was about to become his English rose.

The officer's eyebrows shot up. "Congratulations, Captain Norrington." He pressed a firm hand to the naval officer and with a knowing eye added, "Since the shot was heard at the fort and I have eight marines in your garden, it might be best if you please allow me escort Lady Cunningham and yourself back to her father's estate."

"Of course," James bowed. He knew that Hartlett was no fool. "If you will escort Lady Cunningham downstairs while I continue my wardrobe. We shall both escort her home to her father."

Norah rose from the bed and quickly kissed James on the cheek, "Five minutes, Jamie." Her dark eyes glittering like a she- devil.

Once he was alone, James collapsed on the bed, head in his hands. "Dear God, what have I done? Saved my career or lost my sanity?"

He had temporarily been bewitched by her beauty and somewhere in the balance hung his heart and perhaps his immortal soul...

_And if you could have seen her there, Boys, if you had just been there, _

_The swan was in her movement and the morning in her smile. _

_All the roses in the garden, they bow and ask for pardon,_

_ For not one could match the beauty of all Queen of all Argyll..._


	3. Chapter 3: Jamie Come Try Me

**A Highwayman Came Riding**

**Chapter 3: Jamie, Come Try Me**

_What have I done? _

Despite her outward confidence, Lady Noah Cunningham was distressed and confused. She had expected to find a pot-bellied, gray haired, snuff snorting Torie; yet, what she found, to her deepest surprise, was a young, well muscled commander with soft brown hair which swept into fiery green eyes-- James Norrington was beautiful man! When his long fingers wound tightly around her writs and again, when he had stood a breath's link away from her, she had the strangest sensation of all-- _desire_.

The air between them seemed electrically charged when he pulled her to his lap and when they stood at the window, his breath hot on her bare shoulder. W_hat would his lips have felt like there? _Violently shaking her head, _God rid me of this desire!_ She chided herself twice more as she rubbed her weary eyes. She should be thinking of Donald. That was why she came here and yet her mind and body only had thoughts for the handsome Captain.

"If you don't mind, sir, I'll wait in the parlor alone."

The red coat bowed politely, "Yes, my lady." Then shut the parlor door behind her.

How could this have happened? How could the man she had sworn to seek revenge against be so bloody attractive? And why, _why _had she not investigated him before she'd barged into his house, gaged and bound his servant and held the Captain himself at pistol point? She sighed deeply regretting the answer-- she was reckless. Her reckless and impulsive behavior had always flawed her genteel character.

She leaned her hot cheek against the cool marble of the mantle and recalled the Captain's fond words for Donald. "_He was an officer and gentlemen of the finest caliber ..." _Of course, they could be lies, but she had sensed a profound sincerity in his amber voice and would a man that had just given up his freedom so her reputation wouldn't be ruined be such a cad as to strip a low ranking officer of his rank and pension?

It didn't make sense and James Norrington didn't make since either. What had he meant by, _"You're not the only one in this room who has been robbed of both..."_ Had he lost a true love as well? Had he actually desired a wedding day and a wedding _night_? At times, Norah thought she saw pain beneath his green eyes and at other moments strength but mostly, a shielded indifference.

Fingering Donald's Luckenbooth, she closed her eyes regretting how easily she had sold out to the Captain's marriage ploy; although, she had little other option. Her plan had been to marry her childhood sweetheart Donnie MacCallum upon her arrival in Port Royal, but that had all changed when she received Captain Norrington's letter only a week before her trip across the Atlantic. Now, with her twenty -second birthday fast approaching, she didn't have many options left; her father had seen to that.

She didn't know this Norrington fellow, but surely he would be better than the old twit her father would marry her to in three months merely to rid himself of an aging daughter and to extend his lands.

Plopping into a nondescript parlor chair, she laid her head back and closed her eyes. _And would the Captain actually go through with the marriage? _

"Why not," Norah mused to the empty room. He was single and she was of noble birth, her father held great sway in the Admiralty and she believe herself very attractive to the male sex. Laughing aloud, "I'm the hart and he's the hunter with the prize."

The parlor door opened and before her stood the Captain in all his naval glory. His blue coat sharply framing his broad shoulders, his cream trousers impeccably clean and crisp, tricorne centered. He bowed. "Lady Cunningham."

She rose from the chair and curtsied deeply. "Captain."

Then eying a very angry valet behind him, Norah bit her lip and conceded again. "Apologies to your valet for our misunderstanding."

James looked to Evans whose face was soured as if he'd eaten a lemon. "Of course, these things... happen."

Then smiling at Norah mysteriously, Norrington walked forward and extended his arm. "Shall we _my dear_?"

In silence they walked behind Captain Hartlett as a stable boy prepared two horses. The night was nearly moonless, and a cool wind rustled the palm trees. Once Hartlett walked off to speak to his soldiers, James inclined his head to hers.

"Should I speak with your father this evening or do you want to wait until tomorrow?"

"I hadn't thought..." She began when James stopped her.

"Tomorrow is probably better." His hands knotted behind his back. "I think two or three weeks and then you can break this off with some dignity."

Norah turned her head sharply, James's beautiful eyes were far away on the dark horizon. _This must be how he looks when he's pacing the boards of his ship- beautiful._

"Perhaps you'll have fallen out of love with me, or you'll decide that I'm too old or away too often or ..."

Placing a gentle hand on his forearm, her black eyes serious. " I don't think you understand. I'm not releasing you, Captain Norrington."

He turned to her meet her solid gaze. "Then you wish me to leave you?"

She laughed lightly. "No. I wish for us to marry."

His face showed his confusion. "I don't understand."

At that moment the horses arrived. They remained silent, as James aided her upon her horse and the small party trotted toward Morgan Hall, the Earl's temporary residence.

"You know, Hartlett," James began, drawing his horse forward towards the officer's. "It might be more practical if you don't accompany us onto His Grace's property." Norrington gave the man a knowing look.

Hartlett, the army captain a few year younger than Norrington, chucked. "James, I've know you since we were both boys stationed here. I don't know what's going on with you and this lady, though I'm not so thick as to believe about '_wee misunderstanding_'."

"Yes, I know. " James sighed. "It's just that it's complicated."

Hartlett drew his horse closer. "I know you are an honorable man and she's a beatiful woman." His eyes pierced the naval officer. "I don't think the Earl or anyone needs to know the exact details, but the sooner the banns are read, the less questions all around and less time for cold feet." He winked on the last bit.

"Yes," James mumbled.

He slowed down his horse and brought it up to a trot besides the Scottish black-eyed beauty. They rode nearly a mile side by side in silence until Norah could no longer bear it.

"If you wish me to release you, then I will. But my wish is to marry you." She affirmed again.

"Was this some kind plot from the beginning, then?" The captain's voice held doubt.

"No," Norah laughed darkly. "Rather a rash decision put right by fate."

James was silent.

"However Captain, if I'd known you were a friend to Donald as well as young and handsome, I perhaps would have devised this plot." Pushing her horse a bit quicker, forcing James to increase his pace. "But I can't think of everything, the gods must take over somewhere!"

He was breathless as he caught up with her. She was good horse woman and the years at sea had left him an awkward rider. "You are aware that I never proposed to you? That we don't know even know each other." He added exasperated.

"Many married couples don't know each other but, besides that, is there something about me that offends you? Well, besides the whole incident in your bedroom, which I promise never to do again once we're married. I'm actually opposed to violence, Captain!"

James laughed and Norah was surprised to find his laughter warming. "Opposed to violence? Ha! You're running a close second with my former fiancée. But I really am at a loss for words Lady Cunningham, it sounds as if you're proposing to me."

Norah looked audaciously into his playful green eyes. "Perhaps I am!" She conceded. "And I doubt you'll find much better, at least here in Jamaica. I'm rich, I'm noble and I'm not completely dog-faced."

"You're quite a rare beauty, miss" James blushed as the words quickly tumbled from his lips.

"Thank you." Norah replied quietly.

"Which leads me to wonder why you've chosen to accept a marriage to man you barely know so quickly after the death of your 'true love'."

"Tis fair..." Lady Cunningham sighed. "I never said he was my _true love_, but I did love him. He was my best friend when I was young. Life at sea changed him, but all things change. His family was.. _is_ quite precious too me as his mother was near like my own mother. She was a distant cousin to my mother who died when I was very young and I spent much time with her. Mrs. MacCallum had only one other child, a crippled daughter both of which are in need of Donald's pension after Mr. MacCallum's, his father's, untimely death which left them with several outstanding debts."

"I'm sorry to here that."

Norah raised a hand to continue. "My father did not think highly of Donald's family. Mr. MacCallum and he had a continuing disagreement about a series of loans, etc. Despite this, I had planned to marry Donald even if it meant eloping. However, I don't know if it would have come to that. The only supposition that he's ever put on my marring is that I must be married by the age of two and twenty or he will give my hand to Lord Johnstone our elderly neighbor to get me out of his house and to increase our lands."

James brow furrowed, "Are you sure he's serious?"

"Very serious," Norah sighed. "He showed me the marriage contract before we sailed for Jamaica. I have three months to find a husband or marry Johnstone or... run away."

"I've heard of such stories, but is this true?"

"I promise you upon the grave of my mother, I have spoken no untruth." They trotted forward, Morgan Hall now glowing on the dark horizon. "You said earlier that you were denied both a wedding day and night." She reached across the black emptiness and took his hand, "I can offer you both _and more_."

He stared at her awestruck. Tentatively, her voice weak, she continued. "If you have another love or some other strong objection then of course, I release you. You need ride no further."

He squeezed her hand briefly before dropping it and adding frankly, "I have no sweetheart or mistress. I am free to marry Lady Cunningham. I will not deny that I have wished to be married... I'm tired of returning from sea to an empty home."

His words held a deep sadness and Norah shuddered as she realized they were both in this world alone and it was this common condition that was binding them together. In the glow of the gate lamps, she smiled slightly as she whispered, "You shall no longer have to return to silence, Captain."

"James. Please call me, James." He added slightly.

"You shall no longer have to return to an empty home... James."

If they had been alone, she would have kissed him, but the intensity of their gaze burned hotter than physical touch.

"We'll leave you here, sir." Captain Hartlett broke their spell.

Norrington dipped his hat, "Thank you sir"; as he and Lady Cunningham rode forward.

"Oh and sir," called the marine Captain. "Mind your ride back to town. We've had reports of a dark rider on the road... a highwayman."

"Right, I shall be aware." He called back as the horses trotted and crunched on the gravel path leading to the large home.

Norah laughed to herself and began to sing,

"_If thou should ask my love, Could I deny thee?_

_If thou would win my love, Jamie, come try me!_

_If thou should kiss me, love, Wha could espy thee?_

_If thou wad be my love, Jamie, come try me!"_

James Norrington's chest contracted from the tenderness of her singing. With restraint, he replied, "You have a lovely voice."

Smiling mysteriously as she dismounted her horse with ease, "Aye Jamie, love, I do."

Then walking to the side of his horse, she grabbed his reigns in her small gloved hand. "Don't dismount! You'll never get back on. I'm sorry Capt- James... But your horseman ship leaves something to be desired."

James was not too offended because Norah's lips were upturned, eyes dancing on him.

"You certainly don't keep you thoughts to yourself, do you?" James sighed. "But your right, I haven't much time to ride since I've been at sea for so long." Inclining his head, "There are seahorses but a complete different beast altogether."

Norah laughed at his joke. "You're funny James." Then her eyes widened. "When you return tomorrow don't forget my father's pistol!"

With that she slapped the horses flank causing the animal race forward. "Good night, Captain!"

James pulled tightly on the reigns causing the horse to buck, but also to double back it's direction.

Norah was still laughing as he pulled his stead along side her. "Come here," he said briskly as he grabbed her arm and pulling her up against him, leaning down, he and kissed her. It was quick but, she was no longer laughing. Her breath catching with surprise as he lowered her to her feet.

"I think you must always kiss your intended goodnight, Lady Cunningham." Norrington stated breathlessly and smiling he turned his horse to the gate.

"Norah!" She called after him, mind racing with curiosity, heart with joy. "My name is Norah!"

Waving his hat. "Goodnight, Norah."

**Author's Note:** Reviews appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4: Her Mantle So Green

**A Highwayman Came Riding**

**Chapter 4: Her Mantle so Green**

_As I went out walking one morning in June,_

_To view the fair fields and the valleys in bloom,_

_I spied a pretty fair maid she appeared like a queen_

_With her costly fine robes and her mantle so green._

_Says I, "My pretty fair maid, won't you come with me_

_We'll both join in wedlock, and married we'll be,_

_I'll dress you in fine linen, you'll appear like a queen,_

_With your costly fine robes and your mantle so green..."_

He had awoken to what he thought was a strange dream and then he saw shinning handle of a flintlock pistol on his nightstand. Remembering how he had pulled her roughly and impulsively to him as he sat atop his horse, he brought his fingers gently to his lips. Her burning kiss still lingering there.

"Good God," he murmured to himself as sat upright in his bed. He had acted very unlike himself with such a rash kiss. He cringed-- this was an act of pronounced change in his character. He was no longer the consummate gentleman that he had been before the hurricane, Tortuga had changed him... or maybe it was Elizabeth that had changed him.

With young Elizabeth Swann he phrased every word carefully, ever gesture had thought and meaning, but with Norah-- it was as if he didn't have time to think! Her actions were quick and her words bold. She did not allow for slow graces or gentle caresses. She had entered his house last night, tied up his valet, held him at gun point and now demanded he go through with a sham marriage.

Rubbing his forehead, he abandon his bed and night clothes and began to dress. Perhaps not completely a sham marriage, she had promised him a wedding _night_; there could be no meaning lost in her words which held heavy innuendo. There marriage would be legitimate in every way and quite possibly produce heirs. He paused as he buttoned his waistcoat and smiled; he had always wanted children and now there was a very real possibility that he would have one and if it was pleasurable... many.

But she didn't love him and he didn't love her. Not that he was naïve enough to believe that marriage had anything to do with love. Most marriages in England were formed for purely financial and social gain. Also, he had known that Elizabeth didn't love him when he proposed to her or excepted her bargain on the ship when he saved Will. Love certainly hadn't mattered then because he figured that love would follow. It didn't. He didn't even make it to the alter before his marriage crumbled, would this time be any different? Yes, she said that she wanted this marriage to release her from a bond made by her father and there was a certain physical attraction between them-- he was sure she felt it as well.

Yes, it was so! He was actually excited about the proposition of marrying Lady Cunningham. He smiled as he put on his coat. He wished to be married and she was beautiful, wealthy, connected and intelligent. Maybe a little hot headed, but she'd soften with marriage, he was sure. Looking in a silvered mirror, he adjusted his wig and frowned. Suddenly, he became aware that he looked old and dull-- what could this Scottish beauty see in him? Age lines framed his lips, his brow was tanned by years at sea and thin lines of gray streaked his once dark hair. James positioned his hat on his head and suppressed his initial excitement. Better not to get his hopes up.

"By this time, she's probably, changed her mind," he said to himself as he dusted off his lapel.

Abruptly turning on his heel, he decided he would definitely subdue his feelings towards her as he was sure they would not be returned.

As soon as James was welcomed into the hall, he was pounced on by Norah.

"James!" She said smiling widely as she rapidly descended the main stairwell with haste and rushed to his side. Her thin body wrapped in luscious green silks, her eyes wide and glowing in the afternoon sunlight of the hall.

She grabbed his hand tightly, "How are you?" She asked leaning her head to the side, as if she wanted to say more.

"I'm well Lady Cunningham." James offered stiffly.

"Good! Good!" Then shooing away the old butler, she pulled the Captain to a small room off of the main hall. She shut the doors. "There, that's better." Then brushing down her skirts, "Still ready for our bargain? My father is in his study."

"I gave you my word last night. I intend to keep it." James offered trying to act more civilized than he did the previous evening.

"Aye, and a bonny kiss, if I remember right?" She smiled mischievously and the Captain blushed.

"That was... uncalled for. I offer my sincere apologies, madam."

Norah laughed. "Who is this?" She asked, flicking his hat askew. "That's better. You're completely too proper this morning, Jamie." Then laughing, "I held you at gun point, I think I can beget you a kiss."

James looked at her seriously as he centered his tricone. "Are you sure this marriage is what wish? If I speak to your father today than it's a done deal, Norah; no going back."

"Aye, I wish it." Norah said extending her hand. "No going back." He clasped hers tightly. "But you best understand I will be your wife. Not your maid, not your servant, and certainly not your slave." She added. "I expect to be treated with respect and consulted in all household affairs."

"Agreed." Norrington nodded. "And I will be your husband. Not a man to be manipulated with violence and... not a man beneath your class." His eyes burned her. "I shall treat my wife as an equal, Norah and that respect must be returned."

Norah flushed, remembering her snobbish words last night and gripped his hand tightly to convey her sincerity. "Agreed."

"And..." He paused, voice low as he released her hand. "And I wish for children... in time."

She gazed on him what felt like an eternity and he felt his face grow hot. "Aye. Children... in time. Now where's my father pistol?"

It seemed that everything had been agreed upon and unbuttoning his waistcoat, he withdrew the firearm from his waistband.

"This is highly inappropriate in several ways." He noted sternly.

"But Jamie, t'were soon to be engaged!" A smile laughing on her lips as she slipped the warm pistol beneath her skirts.

A hand on his hip, "Where are you putting that?" He whispered hotly, enjoying the inappropriate glimpse at her shapely legs.

"You'll have to wait 'til our wedding night to learn all my tricks, laddie." She answered and winked. His fingers grasped tightly around her bicep and he wasn't sure what he intended to do when they were suddenly interrupted.

"Captain Norrington," called the butler.

His hand instantly dropped to his side.

"Well, go on," she gave him a slight push. "But give me a few extra minutes to get this back, alright?"

Norrington huffed, and turning on his heel, left to be escorted to Lord Cunningham's study.

"Bring him in." A rough voice commanded from behind a set of gilded doors.

"This way, sir," bowed a footman, as James Norrington entered the lavish study of Lord Cunningham.

Then the butler called out, "Captain James Norrington."

A small, dark man looked up from his papers. "Well, this is a surprise." Then standing, he moved from behind his desk, "Captain Norrington." He said his names as his dark eyes made quick study of the younger man before him. "Is there trouble at the fort?"

"No, sir. I have come on personal business."

Black eyes shrewd, "Personal business?" His dark demeanor faded to calm. "Well, this is a surprise. I'm not sure what I can do for you, but I'm happy to meet with an officer of His Majesty's Navy. Especially one I've heard so many wonderful, if not fanciful sea tales about."

James pressed his lips tight, hoping the man hadn't heard too many rumors about his encounter with a ghost ship. "Thank you, sir."

"Please have a seat." He drew forth a chair opposite his desk and walked towards the decanter. "Brandy, Norrington?" And then he paused, asking over his shoulder, "Or rum?"

James inwardly cringed hoping the Earl especially hadn't heard about his time in Tortuga. A period in his life when there was never enough rum. "Brandy, sir." Norrington answered firmly.

The crystal clinked as he pour forth the amber liquid. "Now what is this about, Captain?"

The Scottish Earl wore a red silk waistcoat and buff trousers; his head covered with a rough periwig. So far, James liked his unpretentious appearance, however, that might be about to change.

Passing the younger man a sniffer of brandy, "Go on." He insisted.

James took a large gulp of air, his knuckles white on the brim of his hat. "Sir, I've come about your daughter."

The Earl took a deep sigh and then sip of his brandy. "What has she done this time?"

"Well, ummm..." James really wished he'd thought a bit more about his approach on the topic of matrimony before he'd come into the Earl's home. "It's nothing she has done, sir." Then setting down his glass on the man's desk, he mustered his courage.

"Rather, I have come to ask you for Lady Cunningham's hand in marriage."

The old Earl lifted a shaggy eye brow. Then in a booming voice directed to the door. "You may as well come in Norah! I know you're listening through the door."

The gilded doors pushed open and Norah softly entered. Her bravado of earlier now quietly contained beneath the guise of a polished, aristocratic woman.

Then looking at Norrington, the Earl added, "She has no dowry."

"I do not wish to marry her for her dowry, sir." Norrington answered quickly.

"I do have a dowry, Captain Norrington." Apparently the guise of dutiful daughter for her to maintain.

The Earl's shrewd black eyes narrowed on Norah. "Are you with child?"

Norrington's jaw tightened, fingers brushing the hilt of his sword.

"Oh, papa, do stop!" Norah rolled her eyes as she sat in the chair besides James. Touching his hand, she reassured him with a gentle smile. "We had the benefit of an introduction last week at Mrs. Bennett's home and realized that we have a great deal in common."

"You can take your hand from your sword, Captain." The Earl said, resting a hand on his hip and turning his attention back to Norrington. "I'm not questioning your honor, sir or why you'd wish to marry my daughter. She's wealthy, beautiful and well connected and if I can be blunt, I can not imagine why she would wish to marry a sea captain of modest means and no few connections."

"For love, papa!" Norah spoke before James had a chance to intervene.

The Earl rolled his eyes as he sat at his desk. "Ah, yes... For love."

"You never said that I couldn't marry for love."

James was burning inside at the Earl's deference to his circumstances.

The Earl's eyes hard on his daughter. "You're right, Norah. I never said you couldn't marry for love... So tell me Norrington, where do your people come from?"

James suppressed his now growing dislike for the man before him. "My father, John Norrington is a shipping merchant in Bristol, my eldest brother, Charles is in business with him. My second brother, Peter is a priest and has the support of Lady Catherine de Montague at the parish church of Berwick-on-Tweed. My mother passed away several years ago, but she was the daughter of Sir William and Lady Anne Westerly of Chorely."

"Then you are the youngest?"

"Yes. Sent into service when I twelve. I made the passage to Jamaica ten years ago as a Lieutenant when I two and twenty."

"With Governor Swann and his daughter. Yes, your name is not unfamiliar Norrington. Governor Swann has spoken very highly of you and I wouldn't be surprised if you name is soon to move up the lists."

The Earl stood and poured a second glass of brandy. "What I fail to understand, Captain and I'll put the question to you exactly as I did to Swann -- You were made Commodore here three years ago and shortly after resigned your commission. Why?"

Norrington's expression was unblinking. "My company suffered a terrible loss in a hurricane. Nearly two hundred men dead, the rest of my crew barely survived; only those of us that could swim and avoid drowning and shark attack were rescued..."

James looked down at his shoes. "One hundred and eight nine souls lost in one day, it was difficult to bear."

Norah took his hand and squeezed it. Her touch was an unexpected gesture, returning him to the present.

"I would have readily given my life for them sir, but it was not the sea's time to take me. It was a horrible guilt to live with and when I returned to health at Port Royal, I decided that I was not fit for service with such a weight on my conscious and my soul."

Lord Cunningham's eyes were as dark as his daughter's. "You know I sit on the Admiralty board, Captain. I remember your letter well, and yet you did write for reinstatement nearly a year later? It was most unusual."

"Yes. With the support of Governor Swann."

"You saved his daughter and her husband from pirates and outed Lord Beckett's abuse of the law."

James nodded humbly, "I played my part, sir. The Governor and his daughter were greatly wronged. The Old Bailey has since carried out justice to Beckett and I am glad that I have helped restore liberty to the peoples of Port Royal as well as to the proper stewards of this colony."

Lord Cunningham, "Yes, Beckett quite overstepped his bounds." Then black eyes looking up. "Never much liked the little prick myself."

James couldn't help but smile.

"Good service to the crown always redeems a man, but tell me..." Crossing his hands in front of him, the Earl looked to Norah. "As I established earlier, my daughter has much to offer you, but what have you to offer her?"

_A broken heart, a fragile ego, a tattered soul..._

"I am a Post Captain, I have a town home and servants; a fair amount prize money. I am respected in the community and believe she will live comfortably... And as Miss Cunningham said..." He added quietly, "I am in love with her."

The Earl sighed and mumbled something under his breath about 'children today'. "Well, Norah. There shall be no going back from this. Is he what you want? This Englishman?"

"Aye, he shall make a fine husband." She looked upon him and smiled; dark eyes glittering with sincerity.

James felt his heart warm and returned her smile.

Cunningham studied the younger man closely.

"Very well." The Earl stood and extended his hand, "I except your offer to marry my daughter."

The shook hands, "Thank you sir."

"Banns should will be read this Sunday and a small service held here in another week."

It was surprise blow that hit James hard, he hadn't expected to be wed so soon. He physically blanched.

"Captain Norrington, might you join me for some shooting tomorrow after tea? I have a fine new set of pistols that I am eager to test."

"Of course, sir," He bowed.

"Norah, see the Captain to the door."

"Yes, papa."

As soon as they were in the hall alone, Norah spoke breaking the awkward silence. "That went well."

"I think so." James said, eyes distant, and then, "Your Scottish brogue has diminished quite a bit since you were holding my hostage." Then turning his green eyes on her. "You're quite the actress."

Norah's cheek's burn, "I find that I'm a bit more intimidating when I break into my Scots dialect. It's not an act James. Just another side of me that doesn't get out much anymore." She added wistfully.

James wondered what that meant, but couldn't think of how to ask politely.

"And I am not the only actor here!" Norah continued. "You were quite convincing in there declaring your love for me. Although I must admit, I am easy to love." She smiled confidently.

"Did I declare my love for you? I thought I was declaring a love for your money."

"Jamie!" She slapped his arm.

He smiled, alighting his green eyes and playfully rubbed his bicep. Norah found his rare smile endearing.

"It's James and Miss Cunningham, our deal with the devil is done."

"Aye. If that's how your choose to look on marriage to me, Captain."

They were now standing on the front drive as his horse was presented to him. He took the reigns and then turned back to Norah. He bowed formerly and kissed her hand. "Good afternoon, my she-devil!"

As he mounted the horse, she added, "If I were a she devil, I'd wear red."

"Don't. Your mantle of green suits you."

She smiled like a cat in cream and commanded, "Lean forward." For some unknown reason, he did as she bid him.

"We need a proper love token amongst us." She said and stroked his jaw wistfully.

His emerald eyes studied her deeply, "Agreed." Thinking she wished to kiss him, he leaned forward, eyes fluttering closed anticipation beating in his chest.

"Here," she caught the lapel of jacket and taking her golden brooch quickly from her own green silks; she roughly pinned it to the breast of his frock coat. Then pushing him upright, she analyzed her work. "There, that's fine. And it will be hidden beneath your coat."

Eyes opening, his fingers fluttered to gift. "A brooch?" He replied with dull surprise-- not quite the gift he was expecting.

"A Luckenbooth. A Scottish gift for her English intended." Norah stepped back and studied his lean frame; her golden love token gleaning in the setting sun of Jamaica. "If you truly love me Jamie, you'll ne'er take it off." She added seriously.

He put hand his hand over the brooch, and the needle pricked his finger. "Mmm... I shall consider that request. Good-day, my lady." Then kicking the flanks of his horse, he was gone.

"Goodnight, Captain Norrington!" She called after him as galloped into the sunset.

**Author's Note: Reviews appreciated!**


	5. Chapter 5: All For Me Grog

**A Highwayman Came Riding**

**Chapter 5: All For Me Grog**

Later that night...

Even though it was nearing midnight, James was restless. His mind was stirring with thoughts of his kidnapping, his upcoming nuptials but most of all, he couldn't stop thinking about a black-eyed Scottish lass, Norah Cunningham. Wishing to clear his head, he decided to 'take a walk' which really meant walking to his favorite public house because this seemed to be where these walks always ended.

As he entered The Rose & Crown, a finer establishment of drink and gambling for Port Royal's officers and gentlemen, he spied Gillette and Groves at the bar.

"Gentlemen," he came forward, removing his hat.

"Well aren't you fitted up right fine for such a late hour, James." Commented Theodore Groves.

"Scotch tonight, Tom," James said to the barkeep.

"Scotch?" Andrew asked quizzical. Scotch was an especially expensive drink in Jamaica due to import costs.

"As well for my mates," James motioned towards his men.

Theodore and Andrew exchanged a questioning, but happy look.

"Has Captain Roderigo surrendered his ship?" Groves asked.

"Not that I know of." Answered James, drumming the bar with his fingers, his face serene.

"You've received a letter from the King, you're to be knighted?" Andrew narrowed his eyes.

Taking a sip of scotch, he chuckled. "That's highly unlikely Gillette."

Theodore nudged Andrew, "He's probably just had a roaring good shag--"

Gillette nodded, eyes wide. "For the first time in years!"

"Aye," agreed Groves, "And he wants us to celebrate with him."

Norrington raised a contemptuous eyebrow, and in his baritone voice, he calmly replied, "I can always drink this on my own gentlemen."

He pushed forward their glasses.

"We give up, Captain!" Andrew said exasperated. "You have denied all of the obvious possibilities."

"Come now, what are we toasting to?" Groves seconded.

"My upcoming nuptials."

Groves and Gillette sat frozen. There were two subjects that you didn't broach with Captain Norrington. The first was Jack Sparrow and the second was marriage.

Norrington was raising his glass, "Well, let's have at it boys."

Groves and Gillette mechanically raised their glasses.

"To Lady Norah Cunningham." Exclaimed James, his thin lips turning upward forming a crooked smile.

"To Lady Norah Cunningham." They seconded, both downing the scotch in one gulp.

Theodore was the first to speak. "Very good sir. Congratulations."

Andrew's brows knotted, "Would this happen to be the recently arrived Lord Cunningham's daughter?"

"Yes."

"Ah." Andrew replied, bitting his lip.

Leaning his head closer to Andrew's. "I know what you're thinking, Andrew. She is actually looking forward to our wedding day." He said as he drew back his blue coat, revealing her love token on his breast.

Groves smiled wildly, punching James playfully in the arm. "Oh ho! Very good, sir. Very good. Tom, another round for us and the Captain!"

"James," began Andrew seriously, "I wasn't implying that she wasn't."

Theodore leaning in, "Good idea to 'seal the deal', if you know what I mean. Excellent thinking!"

Norrington looked puzzled for a moment and then, understanding his friend's mirth, he turned back to his glass, drinking it quickly and motioning for a third. He remained silent as he pulled his coat tighter to now cover the Luckenbooth.

Andrew Gillette had know James Norrington nearly a decade and was sensitive to his brooding moods and recent mistrust with women. Elizabeth had wounded his deeply.

"Don't begin that Theodore," Andrew chided.. Both he and Groves had encouraged James to consummate his relationship with Elizabeth before the wedding to guarantee the marriage, they had had their own suspicions about Elizabeth's motives in regards to their friend but, James had animately refused to do so.

"The Captain was raised a gentleman, not like you and me..." Gillette added.

"Aye, Andrew...Aye." Replied Theodore, scotch glass empty, he turned back to his tankard of rum.

"It's not that, it just..." James began, his face burning with embarrassment, he couldn't bring his eyes to meet his friends. He stuttered a bit more before finding, "She's a lady."

Theodore tilted his head with unspoken knowledge as Andrew said lowly, placing a hand on Norrington's shoulder, "Even true ladies enjoy a fine man's company."

James drunk deep from a tankard of rum now in front of him, wondering if his friends had so little faith in his ability to bring a woman to the alter or if they really knew what women wanted-- could that be the same thing men wanted?

Then sighing, "I'll keep that in mind, Andrew."

Was tipping a woman the only way to ensure an engagement these days? It was of no consequence, she needed a marriage to avoid Johnstone and he needed a marriage because... because he was tired of being alone.

"Very good, sir." Replied Andrew.

There was only a slight awkward moment of silence when suddenly Theodore raised his tankard and began to sing.

"_Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog! It's all for me beer and tobacco. For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin, far across the western ocean I must wander..."_

Andrew and the other intoxicated seaman joined in with merry voices.

"_I'm sick in the head and I haven't been to bed since first I came ashore with me slumber! For I spent all me dough on the lassies movin' slow, far across the western ocean I must wander..."_

Gillette turned to James and put a hand on his shoulder. He laughed and joined in at his friend's encouragement.

"_Where is me wench, me noggin', noggin' wench? She's all gone for beer and tobacco! Well her __**clap**__ is worn out and her __**clap**__ is knocked about and her __**clap**__ is looking out for better weather!"_

Tankards clinked as everyone laughed and shouted on the last verse. Even Norrington was full of mirth. It was wonderful to have such good friends.

#

The next morning James had a roaring headache, but reported to the fort at his usual time. He was intent on writing personal letters before he took on his regular government business. The first letter was written to the Admiralty on behalf of Donald MacCallum's discharge and pension and his second letter was to his own father regarding his upcoming nuptials to the Earl of Glenclairn's daughter. Near tea time, he left his work for Morgan Hall where he was met by the butler and escorted to the garden.

Past serveral hedge rows there was a large field. In the meadow the Earl stood beside a small table with a mahogany box, polishing one of two silver pistols. He instantly recognized the ivory handled gun as the instrument which had recently been pointed at his back. To the side of the table sat Lady Norah in a wicker chair quietly minding her embroidery.

"Good morning," James greeted them a stiff bow.

"Good morning, Captain." The Earl answered.

"Captain," Norah nodded and smiled demurely.

As the men practiced their pistol shot, they discussed the state of affairs in parliament, the politics of the Admiralty, Cunningham's venture into sugar plantations and rumored follies of the 'highwayman' said to be roaming the roads around Port Royal. Throughout the conversation Norah remained silent and James was very much surprised.

"Sir, a message for you." A servant called, breathless on the garden path. The steward bowed, and offered a letter to Lord Cunningham, which he quickly scanned and excused himself.

"You've been exceedingly quiet this morning." James said once the Earl was gone.

"A women's voice isn't desired in the discussion of politics... At least that's my father's opinion. In some ways of thinking he's very forward and in other ways, a very wrong."

She stood, tossing aside her embroidery with flipper. Moving closer to James, her long thin fingers stroked the cold, silver metal of the ivory handled pistol with a tender caress.

James swallowed deeply. "We must go inside. It isn't proper that we remain her unchaperoned."

"Dearest James!" Now picking up her father's firearm and loading its muzzle as she quipped, "Please refrain from ravishing me while we're alone." She quipped. Then pouring and pressing the gun power with ease, "You might just have to marry me!"

Then lifting the pistol, she fired and hit the target spot on. James was extremely impressed and yet, somewhat disturbed at Norah's technical prowess with a pistol and her early caress of the firearm.

"I think we're past that stage in our relationship. Anyway, if I had been thinking about propriety, I wouldn't have barge into you bedroom and tied you to the bedpost."

Norrington blushed deeply. His mouth dry as he retorted, "You didn't tie me to the bedpost!"

A wide smile braced her face. "No, but I should have." Then laughing, "You're so somber Captain, I enjoy making you blush."

It was true, except for that the moment in the bedroom and the swift kiss he'd given her that night, he had been the a true gentleman. Usually he was completely in control of his actions, but increasingly, he felt himself led more by instinct instead of intellect – it was a disturbing realization.

"Now, I hope you don't believe, as my father, that women shouldn't fire pistols." Norah stated as she lifted a cloth to wipe down the muzzle.

"As long as you're not pointing them at me Lady Cunningham." Shifting his weight and lifting a quizzical eyebrow, "That wasn't a lucky shot was it?"

"No," Norah replied, now placing the pistol back into the case. "My brothers taught me to shoot and I had a natural skill for it, much to the disapproval of my father."

James, too returned his pistol to the case. "Perhaps we should take a turn in the garden, Lady Cunningham." His thumb polishing the silver plating of the gun, "Unless you think your father would disapprove."

"As I suggested earlier James. If he didn't expect us to roam about the grounds, he wouldn't have left us unchaperoned. "

James heart warmed as he extended his arm, and her hand gently rested on his elbow. Everything between them this morning had felt so easy and peaceful. Probably because Norah had remained quiet. But as he took her arm in his, the atmosphere became charged. Courting Lady Cunningham would be much more difficult than matching pistols with her, James concluded.

Norah felt her heart thud in her chest as she moved closer, taking his arm. She was admiring his well cut naval attire as they began to stroll down the gravel path in silence. Smiling when she saw the Luckenbooth still pinned to his breast.

"Um.. Well..." Norah began, blushing. She had never been courted by a naval captain before. _What did one talk about besides the sea?_

"You must like sailing--"

"So you enjoy embroidery-

They both began at the same time and then mutually laughed.

"I suppose we're eager to learn more about one another. Shall I question first? I feel that you have unfair advantage of knowing more about me and I little about you."

James smiled slightly, a blush tinting his cheek, he looked down. "What do you wish to know?"

_Have many women been lost in your beautiful eyes?_ "When did you start sailing?"

Looking forward stoically, "When I was twelve, my mother passed away and I was sent to sea. I was the youngest son and it was the obvious position for me being that my father is in trade."

"And do you like it?"

"Yes," James nodded. "Greatly."

They walked on a bit, the gravel crunching under their heels, the birds chirping and bees buzzing in their silence.

Her voice caught as she asked breathy, "Have you ever been in truly in love?"

James jerked, ever so slightly, Norah's hand steadied him. "I...I thought I was once."

Norah's face held a distant smile, as she looked forward to the goldfish pond and sat on its stone ledge. "Yes, I meet her this morning."

"I see." James sighed, a sense of oppression replacing his earlier feeling of vigor. His jaw stiffened. "Then I assume you know all the details of the affair."

"No..." Replied Norah, pausing at the pond. "Only that she left you for the local blacksmith."

_Cuckold. Why didn't she just say it. Emasculate him fully._

"Yes, well..." His eyes turned to the goldfish which glided gracefully in the green pool. His voice cold, "That basically sums it up."

Norah reached for his hand to comfort him, but he quickly moved from her touch. He cringed at her sympathy.

"Unrequited love is very romantic these days." Norah responded in a nonchalant voice, noting his rigid stance.

His jaw tighten again as he responded with a bitter tone, "I suppose that depends on which side of the requirement you are on."

Finally, breaking her eyes away from the fish and turning them upon James. "You sound like a scorned lover, James. Does she still hold your heart?" Her words were meant playfully, but they had quite the opposite reaction.

His ire was raised as he turned to her sharply. "I am not a scorned lover!" Anger and arrogance edged his words. "And no one holds my heart,_ Norah_."

Norah knew she shouldn't be offended, but was suddenly livid. She was only trying to discover more about the man and she did not appreciate his reproach. On impulse, she stood and insisted, "Then perhaps I should take back my brooch!"

"Fine!" James had had enough of her prying and mockery. If she wanted back her bloody brooch, he didn't want it anyway. As he struggled to remove it from his waistcoat, he stabbed the needle deep into his forefinger. "Damn it!"

"James!" Noah pressed herself to him, shaking his bleeding hands roughly from the brooch.

"Take your hands off me!" He attempted to pry her free from his person.

"Oh!"_ How dare he speak to me in such a way! _She raised a hand to his cheek. _**Pop! **_

As soon as she had struck him, he grabbed her wrist roughly and then jerking her forward, he unexpectedly kissed her. Not a gentle kiss, but a deep, unyielding, unforgiving kiss. She twisted in his embrace and then fully and gratefully submitted to his superior strength.

After nearly a minute, James pulled back shaking. They were both breathless, chests heaving in the thick Jamaican air.

"James," Norah whispered through swollen lips, fingers playing softly with the Luckenbooth still pinned to his breast.

His right hand tentatively came to rest over hers and the brooch. Stormy eyes looking up into hers, voice soft. "I shall be keeping it." It was a declaration.

"Yes..." Norah returned weakly as if in a daze.

"I must... I must go." James stepped away, breaking their physical contact. He was more confused than ever and he needed time to think away from her bewitchment.

She understood his confusion perfectly as it was the same as her own. "Good day, Captain."

"Lady Cunningham." He bowed politely and then turning on his heel, left the garden.

There was nothing more to be said, only a great deal of thinking to do and a little drinking...

**Author's Note: If you're reading this story and like it-- please let me know! I need a little more inspiration here to keep me going...**


	6. Chapter 6: Wild Rover No More

**A Highwayman Came Riding**

**Chapter 6: Wild Rover No More**

_"I've been a wild rover for many a year_

_I've spent all my money on whiskey and beer_

_Now Ill save up my wages, keep money in store_

_And I never will play the wild rover no more..."_

Norrington removed his hat as he entered The Rose & Crown.

"A second night in a row, sir?" Theodore, pulled back a seat for his friend. "My, my! This woman is serious!"

"I'm afraid so." James answered, taking the empty stool. He sincerely enjoyed Grove's company, but he trusted Gillette's advice more when it came to matters of the heart. "Gillette's not here?"

"No, I'm afraid he's more a teetotaler like you. Only stops in occasionally." Theodore replied, drinking readily from his tankard.

Norrington nodded, motioning for an ale. Tonight he'd have to go it alone. "Ahh.. I suppose someone has to keep Tom in business."

Groves laughed. "Well, I'm blaming you Captain. Too much time on land for a sailor; we need the sea!" He punctuated, raising his tankard in the air.

Norrington smiled knowingly, as he too missed the roll of the waves beneath his feet. "I know, Groves. The men are growing restless for her."

"Aye, sir." Theodore agreed longingly.

The two men officers spoke on trivial topics this night. Their main conversation centered around their new ship of the line, _The Liberty, _which Commodore Lawrence had sailed to Boston to oversee the final fittings. Tom also briefly regaled the naval men with stories of Jamaica's Highwayman a and the marines' hunt for the thief.

Having quieted his mind with talk and body with beer, James Norrington was feeling much more his usual calm, stoic self. Deciding, somewhere in mid- conversation, that he was overreacting regarding his earlier passionate kiss with his intended, Norah Cunningham; he began to relax. His heart and mind feeling lighter.

Finally, settling his tab with the publican and bidding Theodore goodnight, James left the pub for a sobering walk home. Several military officers rode too and fro on the well paved streets of Port Royal, but James was not fond of horses. He trusted his own legs, even when they were heavily lubricated with alcohol .The night was nearly moonless and a light, warm breeze from the Atlantic fanned the evening commuters. From a dark alcove, a rusty voice sang...

"_The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,_

_The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas..."_

James passed the alleyway without turning to look at the mysterious singer, but somehow the haunting words lingered on the thick Jamaican air, as if they followed him like an old ghost.

"_The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,_

_And the highwayman came riding—riding—riding..."_

"Rubbish!" Norrington sniffed and yet, deep down, he was shaken. Again, blaming his uncharacteristic nervousness on his earlier soul stirring kiss with Norah, he walked on. This was the King's highway after-all and any man found robbing on it would hang; he would gladly see to it.

After several minutes, he was out of the village and near to turning down the street which contained his townhouse; one of several on the street. Suddenly in the silent darkness of night, there arose a rhythmic drumming in the distance; a clacking that grew louder with each footfalls. When he felt that a horse and rider were nearly upon him, James stepped back from the road to give the rider way.

The hoof-steps slowed. The click, clack of the horse holves on paved stone came to a pitter-pattering halt. "Captain Norrington?" A husky voice called.

James swollowed hard and grasped the hilt of his sword. _Could it be the Highwayman? _He was an excellent swordsman, but after several tankards of ale, he was in no condition to fight.

"Yes, who goes there?"

Only starlight lit the path, giving James barely enough light to make out the siouett of a slim rider, dressed in a dark uniform and covered with a mask.

"I can not give you my name, sir." The voice answered. "But there is no need for alarm." He raised an empty, gloved hand in peace. "I am a friend in the service of Viscount Lewisham."

Norrington knew the man well at least through correspondence. Viscount Lewisham, The Earl of Dartmouth was the Secretary of State for the Colonies and the headman of England's spy network in the Carribean.

James' breathing slowed. "I've been waiting for you."

"Lewisham sends his apologies to you and the Commodore. There has been a resent reworking of his...staff."

_Spies._ Norrington thought.

"These letters are intended for Commodore Lawrence. However, since the Commodore is in Boston, I have orders to deliver this information to you."

The man now pulled a large envelop from his breast pocket and held it out for Norrington. It was too dark to read the letter, but he felt the heavy seal which signified official business.

"Who are you?" Norrington demanded.

"That information is too dangerous. It is advised that I keep my name and face concealed from you... At least for now."

This was not unusual in the spy game. "Then you are a dark rider?"

"Aye. Now that Lewisham has reestablished his connections in the Caribbean, I shall be coming to you more often, mostly by night. It is safest that way."

James put the letters in breast pocket. "Thank you, sir. I am glad that we are re-established."

And without a word, the horse bucked in a clammer of hooves and retreated into the thick Jamaican night.

The next day at the fort, Norrington was obsessed with the message from Lewisham and the Home Office. Basically, it reported to Commodore Lawrence and Captain RN Norrington that a new spy ring was established due to a loss in previous ranks. Also, it gave report that pirates were not responsible for revealing the coordinates to the Spanish in the recent attack of _The Interceptor_ where Norrington had lost seven crewman and one young officer, Donald MacCallum. What was most disturbing about the private message, is that it suggested the ship's mission had been leaked instead by someone on the inside.

Norrington bit his thumbnail. Someone in his circle was a double agent for Spain. There was little time now to think on who the spy might be as he had a myriad of reports and re-directs to administer. His time with Norah been enjoyable, but it had delayed him from his work and today, he must return to His Majesty's business.

His next day was quite the same. Another mysterious visit from the dark rider and a mass of paperwork still to be completed on his desk. With the absence of Commodore Lawrence, he had more letters then normal to complete. In-spite of the fact that his bones ached for sea, he was tied to the Commodore's desk until the man's scheduled return which was merely in a fortnight away. Even though the Commodore's absence meant more paperwork, it had also given him the freedom to visit his intended the previous days; so, it wasn't all bad.

Eventually, Norrington was torn away from his letter-writing to discuss and a new strategy with Captain Wright, Lieutenants Gillette and Groves. They hung their white wigged heads over a newly drawn map of the Caribbean to discuss trade-winds, shipping routes, the Spanish and above all, pirates.

"Sir," a redcoat interupted the meeting. "A Lady Cunningham would like to be presented." Captain Wright looked cofessed, but Gillette and Groves shot their eyes directly to their captain.

James swallowed hard, he had meant to write Norah, but then duty called and his mind turned back to his first mistress, the sea. The door opened and and entered Lady Cunningham dressed in floral blue silks, a deep blue ribbon lacing her stomacher and her dark hair curling down from a shallow crowned straw hat. The blues of her ensemble mimicked the those of sky and sea, and Norrington thought her slight smile and beautiful face, the radiance of the glowing sun on the morning waves.

"Gentlemen." She curtsied deeply.

"Lady Cunningham." They replied in chorus, bowing.

Cunningham smiled lightly at James, "I hope I am not interrupting you, Captain Norrington."

The captain who stood in stiff surprise, replied with a practiced calm, "Not at all, Lady Cunningham. Please let me introduce you to my officers."

He extended a hand to beckoned her forward and he was revealed when she took it easily in her thin fingers. "Sirs, it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you..." he paused and looked to Norah nervously as if she might protest, "my fiancee."

Norah smiled reassuringly and gave him a slight nod. A congratulations was given by the small party and they quickly exited to provide the intended couple a moment of privacy. As the door closed behind Groves, Norrington gripped his desk tightly, "I'm sorry, I should have written you. I've been very busy with desk work since Commodore Lawrence's departure in February."

"A letter would have been appropriate, but you are a captain. You can't spend everyday courting a beautiful woman."

He laughed slightly, and she enjoyed hearing his rare amber chuckle.

She placed a basket of scones on his desk and gestured toward the clutter, "I thought sea captains did their work at sea." She continued, her dark eyes playful looking up to his sparkling green. She knew he was enjoying her wit.

"The sea captain assumed such as well when he was younger, but alas, the Admiralty likes it's letter writing and since we are not at war, at least not officially, we are often ascribed shore duty or short missions which allows for more time for long and detailed reports to England."

"Ahh..." Norah replied, her fingers drifting over his paperwork.

James tensed his brow, "I am boring you."

Norah smiled and looked up quickly, "No. Not at all. I am interested in what you do. I have known several letter-writters but never any sea captains. As fascinating as your desk is James, but don't you have a boat or some other sea vessel you can show me?"

James laughed slightly, "Yes, I do have a 'boat'. In His Majesty's Navy we refer to them as ships." He then paused, studying her dark eyes with curiosity. "Would you like a tour of _The Interceptor?_"

"Your ship? Yes, I would!" She grinned at the possibility of an adventure. "Perhaps you'll make a sailor out of me."

The awkwardness that James feared they would encounter after their last lustful meeting in the garden was not evident. In fact, he felt just as comfortable and at ease with Norah as he had during their previous visits. Taking his tricorne from his desk, she took his elbow. There was no lasciviousness in her touch, just the gentleness of a friend and he was glad for that.

"Well, you will have a lot to learn to become a proper sailor, but I am an excellent teacher." His green eyes glittered with mirth.

Norah's eyes dance with returned interest. "If you can teach me to sail, then perhaps I can teach you to ride a horse. I, too, am an excellent teacher... _and_ an excellent student."

"Hmmm. That sounds like a challenge, milady."

"Perhaps, Jamie." She laughed patting his arm. "Now, where is this boat?"

After an extensive tour of Norrington's ship-of-the-line, Norah finally replied that she and her maid must be returning home. She _was _an excellent student and asked several very detailed questions regarding _The Interceptor,_ sailing and navigation. It was apparent to James that Norah was truly attentive to his work, a fact which only strengthened his confidence in their hasty marriage arrangement.

At the end of the day, she had invited him to a picnic near Morgan Hall. They both agreed that the picnic would give them time to discuss their banns as well as how to gracefully explain their sudden desire to marry to the gossips of Port Royal. Finally, before she left the fort, James also showed her the letter he had written on behalf of Lt. MacCallum which elicited a sudden outpouring of graciousness from Norah along with a brief, but firm hug in the spirit of friendship. If their last meeting had been lustful, this meeting had proven they could not only be passionate lovers, but also very good friends meeting one another on a plateau of mutual respect.

As James walked home from the fort, he felt happy to be returning to his home and to his bed. His days of being a wild rover were over and a new peace calmed his spirit. Before he reached his house, he was again met for a third time by the dark rider...


	7. Chapter 7: Black is the Color

**A Highwayman Came Riding**

**Chapter 7: Black is the Color**

The early morning sunlight colored the horizon with pale golden rays on blue waters as Captain Norrington began his day's work. Within a few hours, he heard Gillette enter the small office in the adjacent room. Leaving his desk, he rubbed his lower back as he brought the nearly finished sheaves to his Lieutenant.

"Gillette, if you could complete these reports for Lawrence."

Andrew's eyes flickered up from his desk to met a very weary-eyed Captain. "Of course, sir."

"I am leaving early today at eleven o'clock. I will be at Morgan Hall if any matters of consequence should arise and you need to reach me."

Gillette nodded and took a long pause before he asked, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

James, who had been turning to depart, returned to his lieutenant's desk. More than anyone else in the Caribbean he trusted Andrew Gillette. "Of course, Andrew."

"You seem unusually tired. Is anything amiss, sir?"

James didn't like lying to his closest friend. Turning his eyes away as he answered, "No. Just this extra desk work and I don't know, marriage details, I suppose."

Gillette stood and walked around his desk to meet James eye-to-eye. He hadn't wanted to broach the topic a second time, but he was worried for the man. All of this marriage talk was so sudden and unexpected. Even though the town of Port Royal thought the man was made of steel, Andrew knew that inside, James held a tender heart, especially where women were concerned. He wasn't about to let some young Scottish noblewoman, no matter how pretty and rich she was, twist his heart-strings into a bowline. Gillette hadn't spoken out about Elizabeth even though he had held serious doubts about her intentions. This time, he was determined to make sure that James Norrington's engagement was a successful one, even if it meant getting involved where he didn't belong.

"Your marriage was sudden news." Gillette began.

The Captain leaned against the desk, arms crossed; mind troubled. "Yes, I know."

"James, where did you meet this woman? I mean, she seems perfectly charming. It's just one moment, your cursing young women and the next day, you're engaged to one. A very mysterious young lady that arrived from the glens of Scotland only weeks earlier." Andrew's brow tensed, "It's like she's bewitched you."

"I'm afraid she has, Andrew." He agreed with a mirthless laugh. Then standing, James began to pace the small office, hands on his hips, wishing he were at sea. "I can't say how we met. It was an unusual circumstance, but we both wish to marry. It shall be convenient and there is a growing affection between us."

Andrew studied his friend's stoic expression. Then tightening a hand around his arm to cease his pacing, "James, if there is anyone on the island that you can talk to confidentially it's me. You know I was married man in Belfast."

James knew all about Andrew's young wife who had died a year into their marriage. It was a short union, but apparently, a very happy one.

"Marriage is not a commitment to be entered into with words like 'convenient'." Andrew reprimanded. Then sighing heavily, he stepped back. "I only want you happy, James. You deserve a good woman. What do you really know of this Lady Cunningham? Aye, she's pretty and rich, but there's more to love than this."

James jaw tightened, "I know what you and Lt. Groves think, Andrew. I loved Elizabeth for more than her father's position."

He was treading on unstable ground. "I know you did, James. It just seems there is a gulf between your and Lady Cunningham's life experiences and I don't wish to see you married to some girl who wants to play at being a sea captain's wife." Biting his lower lip, "I just don't want you to rush into anything you're unsure of."

"It was her suggestion that we marry, Andrew. Not mine this time. In fact, I gave her several opportunities to break our engagement and she insisted that she would not. She said in fact, if I wanted to break the engagement, then I'd have to do it myself."

Norrington leaned against the desk and scrubbed his face. "You're right though, marriage shouldn't be entered into lightly or too carelessly..."

He then turned his green eyes to his friend and they conveyed an emptiness. "I'm tired of being alone, Andrew." Then raising a hand to silence his friend. "I know what you and Groves suggest and.... " He gathered his strength for confession, it was difficult to say aloud. "I did in Tortuga... Spent time in the company of several women."

Andrew tried not to show the shock in his face. His Captain had never kept a mistress or lain with a prostitute; he had truly been a broken man during his time in that lawless place and this information was only further proof.

"It is not something I am proud of or wish to repeat." There was a long pause. "You think less of me?"

"No. I thought you were better than the rest of us, that's all." Gillette answered.

James dug his nails into the desk, knuckles white. Voice low, "I'm not."

Andrew brought his hand to his chin as if in thought. "You've misunderstood me, James." Piercing his friend with honest brown eyes, "You're like some kind of mythic hero around here."

James looked completely confused.

"They call you 'the scourge of piracy'. The sailors are in awe of you, pirates fear you, the Admiralty loves you and don't give me that look!"

Norrington shook his head in disbelief.

"You loose a ship at sea, go off to Tortuga, drink it up and then sail back into Port Royal, save the whole bleedin' island from that jackass, Beckett and put Swann back to his rightful place. You're legend, man! I just thought that you sleep with mermaids or something, it just seems to common that you'd commune with jolly girls."

"Gillette, You're so full of horse shit your eyes are brown."

Andrew busted out laughing as it was rare James ever cracked a joked.

"I am very serious, Gillettte!" James insisted with a bit of a smirk.

Calming himself, "And so am I sir." Andrew Gillette sat besides his Captain on the desk; this brave and noble man who had done so much for others and asked so little for himself. "Everyone deserves to be loved, James. I just want to make sure this woman loves you as much as your men do."

James was flattered by his friend's compliment. His words quiet. "I think that love might grow between us."

"Then sir, my last bit of advice for a man seeking love..." He lowered his voice, and moved closer to his Captain. "I know you're always the proper gentleman with the ladies in Port Royal. You're not the type to wear your heart on your sleeve or show emotion, but women like a little romance; a little passion. If you want her to know your heart, than you must bear it to her-- regardless of the consequences. Caress her, give her a taste of the senses; something that will leave her wanting _more_... Be her lover, not her Captain."

It was with these words, "_Be her lover, not her Captain,_" that inspired Norrington as he rode to Morgan Hall.

On the vacant windswept beach beneath the noonday sun, Norah Cunningham spread a blanket and unloaded small parcels of meat, cheese and fruit from her saddlebag. Finding a little shade beneath some large fern palms, she removed her riding boots, hose and bonnet.

Yesterday was the first day that she had revealed her engagement to the local gentry at an evening dinner hosted by Governor Swann. It was at the dinner that she learned that Norrington had earlier in the week declined the event due to work commitments, but Norah couldn't fault him as this was before their fated engagement.

She was met with a great deal of congratulations from the locals. The men were very complimentary of the Captain's dealings with a the former Lord Beckett; the man that had tried very shrewdly to wrestle power away from the rightful Governor Swann. She was told he was brave and bold; the best swordsman in the Caribbean. Later that night she heard more compliments from the women – strong, handsome, stoic facade. Finally, whispers about his brief engagement to Elizabeth Turner nee Swann and deeper into the evening, she even spoke with the woman herself.

"Lady Cunningham." The woman curtsied.

"Mrs. Turner." Norah curtsied in reply.

"I'd like to wish you my congratulations. James Norrington is a fine man."

She hadn't thought she'd feel anything upon meeting James's ex-love interest, but at her compliment she felt suddenly and fiercely protective. Holding her chin high, she corrected, "He is an exceptional man."

Elizabeth lowered her eyes. "I do hope in-spite of our former relationship, that we can still be friends Lady Cunningham. There are few ladies on this island of our age, and I think it would be terrible if we let past events come between us. Especially when they are certainly of no consequence now."

Norah agreed, but was determined not to reveal her thoughts to Elizabeth. Instead her dark eyes penetrated the slight woman. "Why did you break off , your engagement with the Captain?" It was certainly a bold question, but Norah was not shy or diminutive by nature.

Elizabeth held her eye contact and answered her straightly. "I did not love him and I did not think he loved me."

Norah's heartbeat quickened. "What would lead you to such a conclusion?"

"He was friends with my father, our match seemed sensible and he gave me no sign of affection beyond casual friendship. I think in retrospect though..." Elizabeth paused, "I wish not to offend you, Lady Cunningham, by concluding too much about your fiancee."

"No, please continue." Norah nodded.

"James is a very private man. I have known him since I was a girl and I knew him no better when I was eight than when I was eighteen. He was always a gentleman," then laughing slightly, "perhaps too much so. And when I think back on it, I do think that he probably did love me in his way and just couldn't bear to act upon his feelings. He is very reserved, always in control." She paused again and looked up. "I'm sorry, I assume too much."

But Norah was too intrigued to stop her questioning. This woman was her only link to James Norrington's past. Escorting her to a darker corner in the parlor. "He never kissed you?"

"No! Has he kissed you?" Elizabeth asked with surprise and then apology. "I'm sorry. I am too bold."

Norah smiled like a cat in cream. "You are _too _bold, Mrs. Turner. But yes, he'd kissed me, twice now and it was...." She laughed and whispered, "It was so passionate; so delicious!"

Elizabeth smiled in conspiracy. "I am so glad to hear it! Perhaps he is a changed man. I suppose he is and it is you that has changed him, Lady Cunningham. He was always so stoic, so nervous on the topic of marriage." Trying suppress a _squee _of delight, "How exciting! James Norrington is in love!"

Norah grinned and wondered if her new friend could be right.

Norrington spied Lady Cunningham alone on the beach, laying peacefully beneath a grove of palm trees; her shoes and bonnet flung aside. He had changed into civilian attire; a green jacket and buff britches with riding boots and at Norah's request, left his wig at home. The beach was actually a lovely little cove several miles beyond Morgan Hall and it did not appear that Norah had brought a maid or chaperone with her. He should be scolding her for her loose propriety, but instead he headed Gillette's words. _"Be her lover, not her Captain..." _ He had made that mistake with Elizabeth and he was not about to repeat it with his Scottish rose.

Instead he dismounted his horse, removed his jacket and neckcloth and rolled back his sleeves. If she could go barefoot and unchaperoned, he could do without his woolen coat and tie in the Jamaican noonday heat. Leading his horse across the beach he greeted her.

"Lady Cunningham."

"Captain Norrington!" She smiled, but did not rise. "You've come undressed to my picnic!"

"And you have come shoeless and unchaperoned." James replied, leading his horse to a grove of trees and brush.

"A lady simply can't wear slippers on a beach, it's ridiculous and I certainly can't go around only in hose."

"Agreed," replied James, taking a seat on her blanket and began to loosen his boots. "I'm not wearing shoes in this heat if you're not."

"Only fair." She laughed. "And that includes your hose."

"And the chaperone?"

"Two is company and three is a crowd. Besides, Betsy wished to see her sick aunt in the city. It was simply more convenient." Reaching for the flagon, black eyes twinkling, "Wine?"

"Thank you." He took a deep drink and together the ate and drank well. Norah was quite spent from the large dinner and afternoon sun and laid herself out on the blanket, closing her eyes.

"Jamaica is much more beautiful than I had imagined."

"You are beautiful, Norah."

Norah opened her eyes. "Do you know why I never married in Aberdeen? It wasn't because I'm not fair, it was because the men thought me too bold; too unnaturally, outspoken for a female."

James smiled and ran a piece of melon down her cheek and across her lips; following the slick, glossy trail it left across her blushed skin. Eyes not wavering from her perfect mouth as the melon rested against her rose lips. "Fools."

She smiled. Then closing her eyes, she sucked the melon from his fingertips. His breathing grew rugged. He wanted to smoother her with a kiss as he'd impulsively done the other afternoon in the garden, but then again, he remembered Gillette's word. He needed to romance her.

Nervous, he brought a gentle hand to her hair, and swept up a lock between his fingers and began to recite a song from his youth. "Black is the color of my true love's hair, her lips are like some roses fair..."

Her eyes fluttered open, words soft. "That's a song, Jamie, not a poem."

With only slight hesitation, he quietly sang to her. "_Black is the color of my true love's hair...  Her lips are like some roses fair ... She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands,  I love the ground whereon she stands..."_

Norah took up his fingers and kissed them with a gentleness he had never known and certainly and had not thought possible from such a fine woman. He was undeserving of her tenderness and yet, her affectionate touch urged him to continue.

"_I love my love and well she knows ...I love the ground where on she goes... .And I wish the day, it soon will come , that she and I will be as one..."_

As he sang the last line, he laced his long fingers through hers; green eyes burning her like liquid emerald. She whispered, completely mesmerized by her lover. "James, what is this?"

"I don't know."

"Elizabeth Turner said--"

He pulled back from her, "Elizabeth Turner?!"

"She said you were reserved and quiet and--"

His face troubled, voice harsh, "You are not Elizabeth." Sitting up, breaking the spell. "Damn it, Norah! I don't know what it is, I've never felt this way about anyone in my life and I've certainly never spoken so freely with any woman in my life or had any woman speak as freely to me in return. Including Elizabeth. I do not know myself when I am around you, Norah. You make me a different man." His eyes pleading, "You unnerve me and unbutton me and I can't stop thinking about you!"

He hadn't meant to confess to her every emotion he was thinking and feeling, and yet with wine, the sun, his fingers tangled in her hair. It was all too much. Elizabeth and Tortuga had made him cynical in regards to women and now Norah restored his confidence, his faith in the possibility of love.

Norah gathered her legs to her chest, head resting against her knees. "You are completely unexpected." She was smiling, "_This _is completely unexpected. I came to this island with thoughts of revenge and now, the man I was hating is the man that I'm..."

She turned to him fully, "The man that I'm.... stealing his hat!" Norah jumped up suddenly and grabbed James's tricorne.

"Norah! Bring that back!" He called running after her across the sands and toward the ocean.

The waves crashed around her ankles, laughing, "I hate this hat, James. Is this the best you can do?"

"That is my only civilian hat!" He said chasing her into the splashing waters. "Don't you dare."

She made to throw it into the ocean as he grabbed for her outstretched arm. Somehow in the melee, she was thrown off balance and fell backwards into the tide, pulling James with her. They were laughing heartily and in the lapping of the Caribbean waves, they were drawn into one another. Both their breathing rugged, eyes lustful.

Norrington pulled back, reigning in his emotions. He then reached down to pull Norah and himself from the water. He tried to be a gentleman.

"No," she said quietly, small hands pulling on his vest. Her lips meeting his exposed chest with a hot kiss, eyes desirous.

But he was failing...

"Norah," he relented, lowering them back into the waves. The blue waters spraying against their naked legs, pushing and pulling them against the rough sand; they kissed like mythic lovers. The only question now, is how far their lovemaking would go....

**TBC**

**Author's Note: ** Please let me know how far you think it should go. I'm kind of torn as to what would happen next. Review appreciated!!


	8. Chapter 8: Make You Feel My Love

**A Highwayman Came Riding**

**Chapter 8: Make You Feel My Love**

_Author's Note: Thanks for the recent reviews. I really do like this story too, and want to finish it. I however, I've been really busy and then I loose motivation. The reviews really do help. When I know other readers are getting excited about a story, I get excited about it too. It's a vicious cycle! Anyway, there is a highwayman, there is a traitor and this story does have more excitement and an ending. Hopefully, I'll get it all out of my head and onto the before Christmas. Again, thank you for the warm reviews._

* * *

As the surf receded, James finally found strength in his arms to lift himself from his lover's body. "You must be a witch, because you have bewitched me." His green eyes searched her face with curiosity and tenderness.

"No pet," she purred as she pushed back a wet, brown lock from his brow. "Just a lass." He dipped his head again and kissed her. Then pulling back to his knees, the tide rushing in around them, James made to lift Norah from the water and sand. She resisted, pulling back at his hand and laughing, "Canna no' tempt ye, Jamie?"

Green eyes narrowed, "Ah, you're a wicked woman, my rose."

"We'll be married in a week!" She protested.

Unmoving, he hinged between priority and desire, he replied, "Yes, we will be married in _a week_."

Norah pulled again at his arm, and he gave in. It was easy to give into her soft ministrations. Lowering his weight against her, he warned, "We must not let this carry to far." Then he was lost again in a sea of her kisses and caresses, until he smelled rum... Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.

"Well, 'ello Commodore, fancy seeing you here. I hate to interrupt."

Instinctively, Norrington reached for his sword.

"Would you be looking for this?"

The silver blade was suddenly at his neck.

"Yes, I would be, Sparrow." He spat the last word.

Norah's breathing quickened as she silently watched a crazed, kohl-eyed seaman put a blade to her love's throat.

Standing slowly. "That would be _Captain_."

Jack smiled, revealing gold and rotting teeth. "Aye! _Captain_ Sparrow. You've finally got it, mate!"

James closed his eyes, and slowly exhaled. Nostrils flaring. Although he was annoyed, he didn't think he or Norah were in any danger. Sometimes it was just easier to go along with Jack's antics then fight them. He'd learned that the hard way.

"Captain _Norrington_." James corrected.

"Ah, right. Well, sorry to hear about that." Jack grimaced and swaggered backwards. "Sure did enjoy havin' ya on my crew. You were a fine sailer."

Norrington rolled his eyes with a look of exasperation.

"You were on his crew?" Norah asked, now standing.

"The ladybird sings!" Jack winked at the dark haired beauty. "Hello, luv. I don't think we've been introduced." Clearing his throat and looking at the James.

With a droll movement of the eyes, "Lady Cunningham, this is Jack Sparrow. A thief, a liar, a despot, and a pirate."

"_Captain _Jack Sparrow and disregard that introduction. Norrie and I have haven't always been inagreement about certain aspects of the law."

Norrington frowned. "Yes, imagine that, a Royal Naval officer and a pirate not agreeing about the law. How odd." He replied sarcastically.

"Ah! The sarcasm. At least, you're your old-self again. Well that's what I wanted to see you about, Norrie. The law, she's a fickle thing she is, ol' England's law."

"Captain _Norrington_."

Reaching into his pocket, Jack produced a roll of papers. "It appears we're playing for the same team."

Norrington took into hand the offered papers and recognized them immediately as authentic. "A privateer? Lewisham has made you a privateer for England in the American waters?!" He was flabbergasted.

"Aye, so I'll be returning your sword. Just didn't want you to use it on me until we had an understanding."

Jack thrust the sword into the ground and stepped back with a low bow. "My appologies, a man should never handle another man's sword."

James sensed innuendo in the statement, and chose to ignore it. Before he could reach for his sword, however, Norah grabbed it and advanced on the pirate.

"Give me one reason, I shouldn' split you gib to giblet?" Her eyes were fierce as the blade indented on Jack's belly. It was probably the first time that Norrington had ever seen fear in Sparrow's eyes.

"He's harmless, Norah," James answered quickly.

"My lady, the Captain is right. Much more bark than bite. I meant no offense, just protecting me assets." Jack replied as he rubbed his bum.

Without lowering the weapon, "Is he always so disgusting. Nay, foul." She corrected.

"Yes," Norrington answered immediately. "Both."

"I came here with news for you, lad. So I'd appreciate a little hospitality from the lady." Jack protested.

Norrington crossed his arms. "News about what?"

"Apparently, you've got a problem. A traitor walks among you."

James put his hand on Norah's forearm, lowering the weapon. "We're listening."

Jack's eyes darted between the woman and James. With a sigh, Sparrow continued. "_The Valiant_. Your location, your mission and your vulnerability was leaked."

"How do you know, this?"

Jack sighed, serious. "I just know, mate."

"And who told you?" Norrington was becoming agitated as he always did when discussing incident _The Valiant_. "Was it mermaids, or was it sea-turtles, Jack?"

Sparrow was becoming miffed. "It Constanza Aguilar-Aguirre, Captain Ramos's whore. I believe you _knew_ her in Tortuga; perhaps by the name 'Scarlett'?"

This time his meaning wasn't lost on James or Norah. James blushed and then tightened his lips. His icy stare pierced Sparrow. "And?"

"And what?"

"Who gave us away, _Captain_?" Jame retorted with growing ire.

"A workman."

James Norrington's mind raced. "But the only workman not a seaman that was brought in for repairs was...." _No, surely not!_

"The blacksmith." Jack finished.

His forehead suddenly ached, "But why?"

"That is for you to discover, lad."

Norah had replaced the sword in the sand and wandered back to the horses. A strong wind whipped from the east and storm clouds gathered. The weather brewed with wickedness and deceit.

"I know it is of small consolation coming from me, Norrington. But I done my time as pirate and such, but I dislike a Judas. Especially when they cost honest seaman their lives at the hands of Spanish bastards."

Norrington nodded. His head still swimming. Feeling a squeeze on his forearm, he awoke from his thoughts. "Mate, the lass." Jack nodded towards Norah.

Norah was packing her saddle bags and appeared to be leaving.

James offered a quick, "Thank you.... Captain Sparrow."

Sparrow smiled before meandering back down the beach, "Anytime, mate!"

"Norah, wait!" James called.

She was obviously cross. "Please, wait!" He pleaded again, putting his hand on hers.

"It's going to rain." She replied coldly, not looking into his eyes.

James smiled, lower his lips to her ear. "Norah, my rose, we are already wet."

She stepped quickly away from his caresses. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I can't believe I am going to marry a man who lies with Spanish whores!" She exclaimed wildly over the growing winds. Even she was surprised at her outburst and honesty.

"That was a long time ago. Please believe me, Norah. I was a different man in Tortuga."

"I had heard you were a drunk, James, but I didn't know you were a philanderer."

He hated that she knew of his drinking, but she was right. He had been deeply with his cups. However, her second accusation, was completely against his acceptance. He grasped her wrist, turning her back to him. "I admit, I had some indiscretions, but I am no philanderer and never will be."

She closed her eyes, breathing heavy. "Just tell me now, James. Do you have grandgore?"

James knew this to be the Scottish colloquialism for syphilis. He smoothed his thumbs against her wrists to soothe her.

"No, no," he whispered. His cheeks now burning with embarrassment, he shut his eyes. "I..." it was a difficult confession. "Before Tortuga, I had only been with one woman." He paused, voice shaking. "Do you wish me to confess?"

"Yes." She stated emphatically.

His breathing erratic. "I had a fear of disease. Most officers take precautions by marrying early and avoiding ladies of easy pleasure. I was not fortunate to marry young. There was a widow when I was lieutenant that... initiated me and... Anyway, she left the island many years ago. I thought that I could wait for marriage, that I could embrace a life of temporary celibacy."

James's eyes flickered to Norah, and then away again. His face sill hot.

"After Elizabeth and the hurricane, I resigned my career and my dignity in Tortuga." At this he took a long pause, his voice growing raspy. "I was a step away from ending my life there, but instead, I ended my good character. I gave up duty and virtue for months of vice and wickedness. I swear, the devil was in my soul, Norah..."

"And then?" Norah's cracked in the thin air of the growing storm.

"And then Jack found me, humiliated me and honestly, beat some sense back into me."

"That dirty pirate put you on the path to righteousness?!"

"No, the path to redemption. He said to me one night..." He exhaled deeply to regain his control. "He said he didn't like to see a good man fall. There weren't many of us left and that I had a duty to attend to. That's why I came back to Port Royal."

Norah took her thumb to James's face and wiped away a sliding tear. "He was right. There aren't many good men." She reflected softly. "Just don't do any of that again, aye?"

"No, those days are long behind me." His voice a whisper, "I am shamed to confess it to you. I have never been with a gentle lady in any intimate regard."

"Shhh...." She hushed, "Be not ashamed." She kissed his cheek, then holding him close, she stroked the back of his neck. "One would rarely call me gentle, anyway." For a long time Norah held James in her arms, even as the heavy raindrops fell. Together they were baptized by the storm.

#

#

_When the rain is blowing in your face_

_And the whole world is on your case_

_I could offer you a warm embrace_

_To make you feel my love._

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet_

_But I would never do you wrong_

_I've known it from the moment that we met_

_No doubt in my mind where you belong._

_The storms are raging on the rollin' sea_

_And on the highway of regret_

_The winds of change are blowing wild and free_

_You ain't seen nothing like me yet._


	9. Chapter 9: There Were Two Sisters

**A Highwayman Came Riding**

**Chapter 9: There Were Two Sisters**

The rain had cooled Norah's temper, but it had not lessened her lust-- for the Captain or for her covert mission. Morgan Hall's gilded _Le Roy_ mantel clock chimed midnight as she ran barefoot down the back staircase dressed in dark britches and homespun, a worn tricorne and riding boots gathered in her arms. Lady Cunningham had parted pleasantly with Captain Norrington earlier that afternoon with an agreement that he would join herself and her father early Sunday morning for the carriage ride to church; however, she secretively knew she'd see him much earlier than the Sabbath.

Once outside the grand house, she painfully tip-toed across the gravel walk and quietly turned the stable door.

"Norah." A familiar voice stated, followed by a rustling in the straw.

She gasped with surprise and then reprimand, "Harry! You'll be the death of me."

The young midshipman rustled himself from his temporary resting spot, "_You'll_ be the death of you, lass."

"You know following me around at night isn't necessary. I can take care of myself, Harry Forbes."

Harry Forbes was Donald MacCallum's best friend as well as a friend to Norah's youngest brother, Neil. The youngest of six sons of Sir Jamison Forbes of Perth, Harry had been given the choice of join the navy and expand the Empire or join the army and fight in Ireland. At least the sea offered him an unknown misery. Together, Donald and Harry set off to seek their fortunes at sea; perhaps, that's why he felt responsible for his late friend's sweetheart.

"Aye, with a pistol your grand, Norah." Harry said as a match sizzled in his hand and a lantern glowed to life with golden brilliance. "But you're shite with a blade."

"I've been doing just fine on my own!" Norah complained, as she pulled on her boots.

His young, but sun worn face showed a mocking expression which twinkled all the way up to his blue eyes. "Right, that's why you're marrying my Captain next week; a man that you've know all of ten days." Norah, began to protest, but Harry raised a hand to stop her. "No, no. Don't be raising a fuss to me! He's probably the only man in Britain that can tame a lynx like you. He's a damn fine man, Norah, I just don't know how you did it, lass."

"Who I marry is not your concern and secondly, _no one_ will be taming me, Harry." Norah quipped, as she dipped beneath his outstretched arm and began to saddle her horse. "And I will note that you didn't say Scotland."

"I didn't say _Jamaica_." He corrected. "But for one, I'm not available and for two, you wouldn't have me if you were." Harry had been secretly engaged to his school master's daughter for years and hoped to offer publicly for her hand when he rose in rank-- which he hoped would be soon.

Norah replied, laughing, "I won't steal you away from your bonnie lass. I'm not so cruel as to break her tender heart and you're right, I wouldn't have you. You're too ugly!" Her final words were a lie; Harry had always been very popular in their circle of friends for his charm and his handsome face.

Harry moved to join her besides her black mare. "More deliveries, for Neil?" He asked, poking his finger at a stack of sealed parchments.

It was Neil Cunningham, the youngest Cunningham man and a minor spy for for the Home Office that was suppose to be delivering these letters to Commodore Lawrence and Captain Norrington. However, since he'd been detained by gambling debts the day before their departure for Jamaica (their father refused to pay); Neil was currently residing in Edinburgh's infamous Tollbooth-- unbenounced to the Viscount Lewisham. Neil had confessed his plight to his sister and Norah had decided to step in. Despite Neil's disapproval of his sister's plan, the Tollbooth had an ill effect on one's health and the sooner he was out, the better. For now, she would play his part in the spy ring.

"You know why I have to do this. As soon as Neil gets his money for this job then I can secure his release from Edinburgh and my work as a night rider will come to an unceremonious end with none the wiser."

"You could just sell your father's pistols, or his mantel clock or...."

Norah's black eyes cut him, "I am not a thief. Perhaps you have me mixed up with someone else?"

"Which reminds me, I have some gossip for you. You see I was down at the docks today...um, taking in the fresh air."

Her dark eyes became narrow slits. "Whoring or gaming?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Gaming, Norah. I can do a bit better than the docks where women are concerned." He mumbled.

Norah huffed. Forbes made Norrington look like a monk.

"Anyway, the word is that the famed highwayman that has everyone's tongue wagging has Captain Norrington in his sights."

Leading out her horse, she stopped abruptly. "Why didn't you tell him, Harry. You're his man, aren't you?"

"It's probably rubbish, Norah. There's all kind of mad talk with amongst scally wags and shore men. But this," he paused and scratched his head, "This I overheard discussed between two Spanish lads."

"Spanish?!" Her eyes widened. "For christ's sake, Harry, sometimes you're the dogs bollocks!" She cursed as she mounted her horse and rode off into moonlight night.

"Ooch! Watch your tongue, woman!" Harry called after her. "Damn it! I'm a sailor not a jockey." Forbes cursed as he hastened to mount his old mare in an attempt to follow after her.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when a loud thud followed by heavy footsteps on his stairwell prompted James Norrington to stop his quill and turn towards his bedroom door.

"Evans? What's going on out there." He asked. The opening door revealed not a portly valet, but a dark, dusty lad with a masked face and a large plumbed hat. James barely had time to stand before the nefarious highwayman backhanded him with a pistol to his jaw, knocking him unconscious.

The highwayman's voice answered mockingly, "Evans is indisposed."

His consciousness cradled in a warm blackness and then pulling him out of the gentle darkness, he felt cool, smooth hands searching his chest.

"Where is it?" A voice hissed.

James moaned, which was a mistake, as he could now feel a mercurial liquid on his lips; the mixture burning down his throat. "Not yet, love. I need more time." The voice purred.

He was being poisoned, and he was helpless to stop it; his mind floated between the world of dreams and reality. In this strange etherial state, he could feel soft hands glide beneath his shirt and rove against his chest, tickling between the hairs, lingering on his muscles. He wanted to fight this molestation, but he couldn't move his limbs. The liquid had somehow inhibited his ability to move or speak, but as the hands descended into his britches, he was also helpless to stop his body's natural reaction.

"James! Well, I'm surprised to say the least. I hadn't thought..." The voice laughed with approval. A _female_ voice. With this last thought, his mind slipped from his body into the dark void.

* * *

Norah's heart raced with dread as her horse clamored up the cobblestones towards Norrington's town home. She wasn't sure why Harry's harbor gossip filled her with such a dark anticipation; surely, it was imagined. As she dismounted her horse, she knew what she saw wasn't right. The door to the Captain's home hung open. Without thought for her secret identity, she ran into the entryway. Evans lay sprawled and lifeless on the floor. His candlestick cold.

"James?!" Norah called out frantically. Adrenaline filled her veins as she ran to every room on the main floor calling his name; finally, ascending the stairs to his personal apartments.

Calling again, "James?" Opening the door, she saw him laying on the floor; unconscious, his wrists bound with his neckcloth.

"Dear God!" Norah swore as she pulled a knife from her boot leg and began to cut away his bindings. "James, can you hear, me?"

With a sudden fury, Norrington opened his eyes and launched himself at the kneeling woman.

"Norah!" He yelled, his face red and splotchy, his hands shaking, encased her shoulders like a vice.

She yelped with surprise, dark eyes wide. "Are you alright?"

Norrington growled as he stood, picking up the slight woman before him and tossing her onto the bed.

"How could you, you... you _**bitch**_?!" He seethed, green eyes feral. "You promised me you'd never accost me again!"

"James, I don't know what you're talking about!"

Pinning her to the bed, he squeezed her writs so tightly her fingers tingled with numbness.

"Is this your idea of foreplay, Norah? To beat me and to bind me?" Her jaw dropped open; she had no response to his madness. "Because two can play at this game." He rasped and slapped her cheek hard.

"You forget yourself, Captain!" Norah shouted, her face growing red with embarrassment and anger.

"You forget yourself, _milady_." He openly mocked.

She squirmed in his grasped, but his fists were like iron cuffs, his legs pushed painful against her own.

"You are a liar, a thief , a whore-" His face still red, glowed with rage. "But you'll hang for robbing on the King's highway."

"You're mad!" Norah spit in his face.

"Yes, I'm the idiot aren't I, _Lady_ Cunningham? I should have read the signs. You ride like a man, you shoot like a man," he snarled, "But I was distracted because your touch is all woman. Duplicitous as it is gratifying."

He pushed her back into the mattress. "We'll finish this now before I take you to the noose, but it will be my way this time, '_love_.'"

Just as James was about to mount the bed and exact his punishment on Norah, he stilled; a blade to his back.

"Captain Norrington, you are mistaken. Lady Cunningham is not the highwayman." A new voice said calmly.

"Midshipman Forbes. You are dismissed." Norrington hissed.

"No, sir. I'm afraid you are unwell. I will need you to step back from the lady. _**Now**_."

James Norrington exhaled heavily and then stepped back from the bed. At nearly the same time, Norah saw a glint of reason in his wild green eyes and then desperation.

"I've been poisoned." Norrington said calmly. Suddenly, falling to his knees, he began to retch violently.

Norah jumped from the bed and flung a chamber pot beneath him as he vomited. Rubbing his back as he convulsed, she pushed away Harry's blade as they exchanged looks of fear, confusion and sympathy.

"Laudanum." Norrington gasped, recalling the bitter liquid. "I'm allergic to poppy seed. It makes me," he paused remembering her earlier words and laughed, "a bit mad."

"I should get the doctor." Harry said. His sword still at his side.

"No! Please fetch Lieutenant Gillette, or Groves. They can get me thorough this." James replied and then heaved again into the chamber pot.

Harry looked to Norah with questioning eyes. She drew back her coat, revealing two pistols.

Norrington eyed her movement. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that... But I warn you, it could." Then lifting his head again from the floor, "The sooner the better, Forbes. That's an order."

Forbes reluctantly left the room.

"Can I get you some water?" Norah asked, noting that James's face was now a whitish-green, his temple cool, but clammy.

"Not yet. I need to get the rest of this out." He paused and vomited again. Then moving like a dog to rest his forehead against the floor. Without looking at her, he asked with a tired voice. "Why are you dressed like that if you're not a highwayman?"

Norah laughed, and stroked his back. "Do you not recognize your own man, _Captain Norrington_." She dropped her voice for his name, and he immediately turned to look upon her.

"My God, you're Lewisham's rider?" His face puzzled and then he laughed; allowing his body to collapse on the floor.

Norah nodded. "What's happened to you?"

"When I take laudanum or anything derived from poppy seed it makes me go out of my head. I become torn between fits of violence and very deep sleep. Then there's the vomiting, the hot flashes, followed by chills and the crazy talking."

"But you're in your head now?" Norah asked, taking his hand.

"Yes, but it won't be for long." He grimaced. "I don't want you to see me this way. I'm sorry. Although I don't think I was completely mad to conclude you were the highwayman."

"Aye, I can ride and shoot, but you've missed something vital here, I am not a man."

James's face held a distant pain. "And neither is he."

Norah's brow knotted, "Are you saying the highwayman is a woman?"

He nodded from the floor. "Yes," he answered, his voice rough.

"Did she..." Norah wasn't sure if she even knew what she was saying. "All this earlier talk of _touching_... Did she take advantage of your person?"

James's eyelids fluttered shut. "Yes. She was looking for something that she didn't fine."

Norah's nostrils flared with anger. No one was going to take advantage of James Norrington's person except for herself. Adding fuel to her here fire, she tugged about his waistcoat and found her luckenbooth was gone as well. "When I find her...." Norah began to swear.

"We found her, Governor... Jack... The island... All the rum was gone..." James's mind began to wander into his unconsciousness again. "She promised me, Andrew..." Darkness was filling in the corners of his mind.

"Jamie, you're rambling. Stay with me, pet." She soothed, stroking his hair. "What are you saying?"

His eyes opened one last time, but with a lost, vacant stare, so haunting, Norah herself felt a chill. "... Elizabeth..."

Head cradled gently in his intended's lap, James fell into a deep sleep. Although she touched him with light fingers, Norah felt a great hatred spring from her breast. Elizabeth and herself had both shared the same intimate bond with the James Norrington, both felt his affection, both mocked his properness but now, Elizabeth was a step ahead. Norah would not be out played by the adulterous wife of a blacksmith. With dark thoughts, a dark lullaby she sang to her lover.

"There were two sisters of county Clare,

One was dark and the other was fair,

And they both had a love of the miller's son,

But he was fond of the fairer one.

So she pushed her into the river to drown ,

And watched her as she floated down ,

She floated 'til she came to the millers pond ,

On the water like a golden _Swann_.

Oh, the dreadful wind and rain..."

**Author's Note: **Reviews would be awesome!


	10. Chapter 10: Do You Love an Apple?

**A Highwayman Came Riding**

**Chapter 10: Do you love an apple?**

Lieutenants' Gillette and Groves burst through Norrington's bedroom door with the strength of a hurricane; Midshipman Forbes following on their heels, breathless.

The naval officers knelt besides their captain. "Alright, lads. Heave, _ho_!" Lieutenant Gillette commanded and with one swift motion, they lifted his unconscious body to the large four poster bed which dominated his room.

Groves eyed Norah. "I'll get him into his dressing gown. He shall be well tended, milady."

"Forbes, go downstairs and assist the coxswain with Evans." Gillette added and then turned to look on Lady Cunningham. His expression was tense; voice clipped. "Lady Cunningham, if we could step outside." He motioned towards the door.

With regret, Norah left James to Groves, exiting his private rooms. In a small alcove of the upstairs hallway, Lady Cunningham and Lieutenant Gillette began an awkward conversation.

"Lady Cunningham," the lieutenant began, "Thank you. That being said, I fear for both the Captain's reputation and yours, milady, if anyone were to find you here without a chaperone." Surmising her clothing, he added with mirth, "Dressed like a stable boy." Then smirked as he studied her odd, tight fitting attire.

James had told her his Irish lieutenant had a sarcastic wit and a roving eye.

"Lieutenant Gillette," she answered, her voice hinging, "I agree." She said reluctantly and her thoughts turned to her suffering lover.

"Midshipman Forbes's told us everything about the break-in, but if you have anything to add of consequence-"

"Yes! Before Jam- Captain Norrington, fell asleep he told me the highwayman thoroughly searched his person looking for something of importance."

Whatever this mysterious object was, her words obviously held meaning with the lieutenant. "Hmmm... And did _you_ notice anything missing?" It was a question with an implied question.

"Only that the room was tussled and the luckenbooth brooch I gave him was gone from his waistcoat."

Gillette frowned. "Well, perhaps the brooch will hold value later on if the robber still has it on his person. By the by, Lady Cunningham, Midshipman Forbes said that the captain was..." He paused, searching for words, "not of his usual character."

Norah nearly laughed at his mild description. "Trust me, lieutenant. I am quiet aware that he was not himself." She stated adamantly.

"We can only surmise the thief gave him laudanum to search his person without his knowledge. As I'm sure have you noticed, laudanum makes him a bit-"

"Mad? Violent? Delusional?" She interjected.

"Yes. In fact, the last time he mistakenly ate a poppy seed muffin, Lieutenant Groves lost a tooth in the ensuing brawl. However, the Captain usually recovers in about six hours. "

"Dear Lord!" Norah exclaimed with laughter in regards to Groves' tooth loss.

Lowering his voice, Gillette added softly, "I hope whatever James said to you, or if he acted badly; well, that you haven't changed your mind about the wedding." The man's eyes burned with intense concern and Norah was touched by the officer's loyalty.

Breaking his bold eye contact and casting his gaze to a window, Lieutenant Gillette continued his appeal, "He's a very fine man, Lady Cunningham and..."

Putting a light hand to his chest, Norah stopped his accolades. "I know." She smiled deeply. "If you can have him at Morgan Hall tomorrow morning, then the banns will be read as planned. If not, I can wait. You see, Lieutenant Gillette, I fully intend to marry Captain Norrington at week's end." She paused and added wistfully, "I just hope he still feels the same in regards to marrying me."

Gillette seemed puzzled but contented by her answer. Stepping back, she curtsey deeply, which she now realized looked extremely humorous in britches and Gillette wasn't doing a very good job hiding his amusement at her situation.

"Goodnight sir, take good care of our Captain."

"Goodnight, milady," he bid her goodnight with a quick bow. "Rest assured, he is in safe hands."

* * *

The next morning Norah paced the front parlor of Morgan Hall in anticipation of either Norrington's arrival or a letter of regret. As her nerves ate at her stomach, she also pondered the mystery of the highwayman. James was out of his mind with laudanum when he had confession the name, _Elizabeth_. Last night, she had assumed his confession meant that Elizabeth Turner was the highwayman. However, on the light of a new morrow, the idea seemed absolutely preposterous! Perhaps she was just ready to hate Elizabeth because of all the hurt she had caused James.

Dropping her head in her hands, Norah sighed. "No, it's more than that." She confessed. For the first time in her life, she was jealous of another woman. She was jealous because James had presumably _loved _Elizabeth and now, she knew that she was falling in love with _him_. Placing her hands on her hips, she laughed aloud with wonder and amazement. She was in love with a sea captain! With shocking realization, she asked, "And now, how am I to make to make him love me back?"

A knock sounded at the door and Norah raced to answer it before the butler. Opening the door widely, she was met with James Norrington starched and pressed in his finest uniform of dark blue wool and gold naval lace. He was a heroic sight, yet his was face pale and eyes tired. At his side stood Lieutenant Gillette looking ready to catch James should he suddenly fall out. After biding them entrance and exchanging formal greetings, Norah took James's arm leaving Gillette to study the entryway portraits. "Captain, you look unwell." She stated bluntly.

To this Norrington's raised an eyebrow, a sardonic look crossed his face. "Yes, a touch of - food poising, I think."

When they were far enough away from Gillette, Norah asked, "What do you remember from last night?"

James closed his eyes, remembering his strongest emotion. "I remember being very angry at you."

Norah's red lips turned up. "Then you are fortunate that is all you remember."

Cocking his head to the side, his eyes opened. "And I remember that you were wearing some very tight britches."

Norah rolled her eyes. Could men think of nothing more than a woman's legs?

James clasped his hands behind his back in his characteristic thinking stance. His eyes looking out the back window of the veranda, voice distant. "And I know from Forbes that I... that I treated you with... dishonor."

"You remember _that_?" Norah asked flabbergasted. She was abashed and hoped he had forgotten the barbaric scene.

Turning to her, his face was pained; green eyes turbulent like sea. "I am deeply, _deeply_ ashamed. My behavior was unacceptable and I don't know if I can ever apologize enough for my ill treatment of you." He paused and sighed, "I just beg you know it was drug that made me mad. I would never harm a woman, Norah. Especially, one that I care about so deeply as you."

She let her fingers brush lightly over his lapels. "_Jamie_," she said softly. "I know you were out of our mind from the poppy." She smiled and stepped back, "I'd say we're tit for tat now. Except I hadn't been forced to swallow hallucinogenic when I had my way with you. Anyway, you're back to yourself now, aren't you?"

"Yes." James answered quietly, then raising an eyebrow. "You mean, you really aren't upset about what occurred between us?"

"What I'm upset about is why Port Royal's highway broke into you house, knocked out your valet, dosed you with laudanum and search your body. By the way, you never told me what 'he' or 'she' was looking for and secondly, when you said _Elizabeth_, you were inferring that you believed Elizabeth Turner to be said highwayman?"

James sighed deeply and then looked at her with acceptance. He knew she would have questions. "I'm only telling you this because you're Lewisham's man or _woman_-- and no, I hadn't forgotten that confession either. But, I can only guess that the blackguard was looking for the key to the map room strongbox where I keep Lewisham's correspondance. I usually wear it around my neck on a silver chain, but as so it happens, I wasn't wearing it last night. It is still safe."

"And it being the highwayman that robbed you? And said highwayman being a _woman_?" She pressed on.

Eyes fixed on a distant object. "I am sure it was a woman by her voice and by... her touch. From what I briefly saw of the thief, he appeared to meet the description of the highwayman of course, soon after , _she_ pistol whipped me and bound me. So my memory is a bit foggy." He finish with an angry edge to his words. "Whether the blackguard were Elizabeth Turner, I honestly don't know. I thought it was at the time; her voice seemed familiar, but honestly, I was too far gone with the laudanum to really know."

"And the search of your person?" Norah urged him on.

"I told you, she found nothing." Norrington's answered impassively.

Norah bit her lip. They would be man and wife soon enough. She'd sort out the nuances after they were married.

Sensing Norah's disappointment from the his lack of details, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "No, Norah, I did not enjoy it. If that's what you were getting at."

"Good!" She smiled and turned on her heel, "Well, what do we do now Captain Norrington?"

"Madam, now we go to church and God willing, have our banns read without contestation." Then turning to face his Scottish rose head on, his posture straighten, jaw clinched and released. "What we will not do Norah is thus-- we will _**not **_seek out the highwayman, we will _**not **_jump to conclusions about Elizabeth Turner and we will _**not**_ met each other again on the King's road as Captain and dark rider. Am I clear about this?"

"You're taking away all my fun, Captain Norrington!" Norah quipped, her voice turning serious. "But about my being the dark rider, I'm rather in need of the money, you see." She confessed.

He look ed at her from the corner of his eyes, "Forbes told me about your arrangement with you brother and as a wedding gift to _you_, I will pay off his gambling debt and secure his release from Edinburgh. Mister Cunningham's profession with the Home Office will then return to Mister Cunningham immediately."

"Oh, James! Really? Thank you!" Without regard for Lieutenant Gillette, Norah threw her arms around the staunch Captain and embraced him in a fierce hug. "You're wonderful!" Her head rested against his chest and the sincere gesture brought color to James's cheeks which now blushed crimson.

As a perfect conclusion to the day, the bans of Lady Norah Cunningham and Captain James Norrington were read without contestation and all of Port Royal eagerly prepared for a wedding. Unbeknownst to Norah; James Norrington and the captain marines, prepared to capture it's highwayman. Unbeknownst to James Norrington, Norah prepared to seduce it's heroic captain.

_Do you love an apple, do you love a pear? _

_Do you love a laddie with curly brown hair? _

_Yes, **I love him**, can't deny him,_

_I will be with him where ever he goes..._


End file.
